


Live Like I'm Not Afraid

by tchrgleek



Series: The Way I was Made [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tchrgleek/pseuds/tchrgleek
Summary: A continuation of a story from this prompt:From this prompt: http://kurt-bigbang.livejournal.com/7015.html?thread=95847#t95847"There is a church near my house that is currently going through some remodeling, and as such they’ve changed their sign. Their new sign says You Matter To God, and You Matter to Us.My first thought was, “Oh God, Burt Hummel became a Baptist preacher.”My second thought was, “Holy crap, I’d read the fuck out of that fic.”So I guess what I’m saying is fandom? Get on it."In this part, Kurt begins school at Dalton Christian Academy and meets Blaine and the Warblers. David Karofsky still attends Burt's church, and creates havoc for both Kurt and Burt. Burt's job is in jeopardy, as is Kurt's life.





	1. New Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to LallaGoGlee, who made this beautiful cover art for the series. I am floored by both her talent and her generosity as she came in at the last minute and pinch-hit this out of the park.
> 
> Also, I could not have finished this without the cheerleading of the lovely Kate (@anxioussquirrel) and Rachel (@marauder-in-warblerland), who spent their time reading, coaching, encouraging, and kicking my ass, always with the right words at the right time. I am blessed to have such amazing friends. 
> 
> And the MVP of the fic goes to Tonks (@Tonks42), who read through it all more than once to beta and fix my comma errors. Why can I find them in everyone else's work but my own? She spent her Friday afternoon and Saturday morning in between holiday parties reading my fic for the bajillionth time because I am a nervous Nellie.
> 
> Title of the verse as well as this fic comes from Chris Tomlin's song "The Way I Was Made".

 

On his first morning at Dalton Christian Academy, Kurt Hummel walked around gaping, in awe of the grandeur and majestic architecture and art.  He walked up a marble, spiral staircase with an elaborate, wrought-iron banister, shined to perfection. Above his head was a circular skylight, made of tinted glass and similar iron-work to the railing. His mouth dropped open time and again when he spotted wooden paneling in the classrooms, leather couches in the commons areas, and tapestries hanging above marble-tiled floors, when there weren’t frescoes painted directly on the walls. Some of the art showed scenes he recognized from the Bible stories and studies he had done growing up in Sunday School. Others were completely unfamiliar.  

Kurt wandered closer to one of the paintings on the wall, one of a scene he didn’t recognize, running his fingers over the varnished surface. At the bottom was an engraved, brass plaque that read “This replica of ‘The Trial of the Apostle Paul’ was donated by Charles Lindbergh in memory of the seven Warblers injured in the accident.”

It was culture shock compared to McKinley High School, where his father had made no headway in stopping the bullying and abuse he took daily, despite being the pastor of the largest church in Lima.

His first class, World History, was significantly more challenging than any class he’d been in before. He’d never experienced anything like the Socratic seminar he’d just sat through. At McKinley, his teacher was more likely to throw a movie on and spend the class period checking his e-mail. Here at Dalton, apparently it was expected to not only know what a West African Sudanic Empire was, he was supposed to be able to discuss its similarities to and differences from the Mongolian Empire and do it without notes.

His head was spinning as he followed the student body as they streamed downstairs. Everyone was buzzing excitedly about something, but Kurt didn’t know what was going on at all. He turned to the first friendly face he saw – a dark-haired, brown-eyed boy that passed him on his way down the stairs.

“Excuse me, I’m new here.”

The boy turned around at the bottom of the stairs. Kurt’s mouth went slack and his knees went weak as his heart fluttered in his chest. He had never seen anyone so handsome in his life.

“My name’s Blaine.”

Kurt stood with his lips parted, taking a deep breath before he was able to respond. “Kurt. What’s going on here?”

Blaine smiled so widely Kurt was nearly blinded by it. “The Warblers! Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the Senior Commons. It tends to shut the school down for awhile.”

Kurt’s eyes opened wide, and his heart skipped a few beats as Blaine took his hand to show him a shortcut to the senior commons. He was certain he could feel the blush rising to his cheeks as they jogged through an empty corridor, hand-in-hand. When they arrived at the performance space, Kurt’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh, there are so many people in here! I don’t know a soul!”

“Don’t worry, new kid,” Blaine said, reaching out to adjust the lapel on Kurt’s uniform, which had become twisted on their jog through the school. “Give yourself some time. You’ll fit right in.”

At that moment, a group of boys began singing and Blaine continued, “Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”

Kurt leaned back against the wall next to the door he’d entered as the loveliest boy he’d ever seen sang “Teenage Dream”, a girl’s song, and frequently looked directly at Kurt during it. Kurt felt his face crack into a smirk, then a grin, and finally, a beaming smile as the song continued, and Blaine kept looking at him with eyes he could only describe as smoldering. Every time Kurt glanced around the room, the other boys were dancing, pumping their fists in time with the beat, and some were even singing along. Everyone was smiling and enjoying the music. No one seemed upset that boys were singing to other boys about getting their hearts racing in skin-tight jeans. No one looked angry. No one so much as frowned in disapproval. Even though his dad had told him it would be like this, that no one was allowed to tease him or bully him, seeing it in person was another whole thing entirely. Having spent so much time growing up in the Baptist Church, with all the judgment sent his way for being a pastor’s kid, seeing a group of boys enjoying each other without sports or violence was a novel concept.

Kurt thought maybe he’d fallen down a rabbit hole into Wonderland, because heaven wouldn’t look anything like this.

\----

After the performance, Kurt lost track of Blaine in the crowd. So many students crowded around the Warblers to slap them on the back and congratulate them on a job well done that he would have had to barge in to say anything. He slipped out the side door and tried to find his way to his next class. It was at least 20 minutes before any of the other students appeared in the room, which gave him time to meet the teacher, gather the required books, find a seat, and examine the syllabus.

Once again, this class was far and away miles ahead of anything he’d done at McKinley. English class at McKinley had been a lot of reading a novel and watching a movie to go along with it, with a multiple choice test at the end that was just as likely based on the movie, not the book. At Dalton, he would be expected to analyze each piece of literature he was asked to read in a paper that was at minimum five pages. Each semester also required a research paper on a topic of the students’ own choosing. Kurt didn’t think he’d be able to get by with handing in his paper on the influence of Lady Gaga in pop culture that he’d done the previous year at McKinley. Even if the topic was approved at his new Christian school, it was about seven pages short of the ten-page minimum.  

Kurt was overwhelmed just thinking about how much work he had ahead of him, especially considering they were halfway through the semester already. With only two classes so far, he’d be buried in homework until Christmas, and he still had five more classes to go.

When the other students started trickling in, Kurt couldn’t help but hear them gushing about the Warblers’ performance, Blaine’s solo, and the upcoming sectionals competition. It sounded like half the school was planning to attend the performance. There was no way McKinley High School students ever would show up en masse to a glee club performance. Kurt had to be in Bizarro Land.

Kurt’s eyes widened when he realized two of the boys Blaine had sung with were walking into his class: the Asian one with incredible hair and the African-American that had been in the front row just behind Blaine.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen. It’s time to get started.” The teacher, Kurt glanced at his schedule to find his name, Mr. Hollanback, stood at the front of the room, trying to get the boys attention. “We have a new student starting with us today. I know you will join me in welcoming Mr. Hummel to Dalton Academy.”

The rest of the boys turned to look at Kurt, who was panicking, trying to decide if he should smile and wave or just smile or sit stone-faced. Before he could decide, the teacher was talking again. “Now, we were discussing Dickens’s perspective on poverty compared to his contemporaries. Who found an example of another of his peers with the same concern for urban sanitation and the squalor of early 19th century London?”

Kurt grabbed his pencil and began taking furious notes of the discussion, since he had no idea what any of the answers were to any of the questions being raised. He didn’t even notice which students said what as he frantically tried to assimilate all the different ideas and attitudes coming at him. His hand was cramping by the time the teacher said, “Excellent discussion, gentlemen. I want a two-page summary of your perspective on the topic on my desk tomorrow.”

Kurt looked up from his notebook. That assignment wasn’t on the syllabus he’d perused so carefully. He was absolutely screwed.

As the other boys finished writing the assignment into their planners, Kurt watched the two Warblers. They started chatting with each other as they piled their notebooks and materials and one of them, the Asian, glanced backward to where Kurt was standing. The boy smiled, and Kurt smiled shyly back.

“Do you know where to go for your next class?” asked the Asian boy.

Kurt’s smile grew slightly. “Actually, no, I don’t.” He pulled out his schedule. “Do you know where the chemistry lab is? Mr. Vold?”

The African-American boy smiled. “I’m going there myself. Apparently, we share another class. You must be a junior, Mr. Hummel?”

“I am. Call me Kurt. I’m Kurt Hummel,” Kurt said, offering his hand to shake from under his pile of books and notebooks.

The boy shook his hand, replying, “David Thompson. Let’s go. Don’t want to be late!”

The chemistry lab was the first classroom at Dalton that reminded Kurt of McKinley. Looks can be deceiving, apparently, though, because again, the level of detail required was far above AP Chem at McKinley. David was sitting next to Kurt and offered to be his lab partner. After their experiment was set and they were in the monitoring phase, David struck up a conversation.

“So, Kurt, tell me about yourself.”

Kurt swallowed. “Well, I transferred from McKinley High School. My dad is the pastor of Spirit of Peace Baptist Church, so I’m here on scholarship.”

David smiled. “So am I. My parents are missionaries in Irian Jaya. I board here.”

“I didn’t realize there was a boarding option. What’s that like?”

“Very few of us board, actually. Most of the guys live here in Ohio, but most of the boarders are MKs like me. It’s kind of cool to have someone that knows what you’re going through.”

Kurt couldn’t fathom what it would be like to have another kid who had survived the same kind of bullying he had. He spoke slowly as his mind worked, trying to wrap his head around the concept. “I suppose that’s true. I had a friend at McKinley whose dad was a pastor, too. She’s probably the closest friend I’ve ever had.”

“So what are your extracurriculars?” David asked.

Again, Kurt had no idea what someone was talking about. His day was full of one eye-opening moment after another. Kurt finally responded, “What do you mean?”

“Well, this is a college prep school. Everyone has to have some kind of extra-curricular activity. It’s required. What did you do at McKinley?”

Kurt smiled in understanding. “I played football sophomore year. I sang in the glee club, as well. You’re one of the Warblers, right?”

David grinned. “You noticed that, huh? I’m actually on the Warbler council.”

“That’s cool. Do you guys perform a lot?”

“Mostly here at school, although we’re headed for sectionals coming up. We’re supposed to get the list of our competitors today.” David’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

Kurt wondered aloud, “How would someone become a Warbler, if he were interested?”

David raised an eyebrow at Kurt’s question. “What part do you sing?” he asked.

“High tenor. Countertenor, to be specific.”

“Really?” David’s eyes glinted as he continued, “You’d have to meet the council, audition, that sort of thing. Are you any good?”

Kurt smiled. “I’m fantastic, and I can dance, too.”

“Let’s see what I can do.”

Later that afternoon, Kurt found himself sitting at a table in the commons area with David, Blaine, and the Asian boy, whose name was Wes Montgomery. Kurt was planning his presentation in his head, how his dance skills could be an asset to the Warblers, how his unusual range could help their vocals soar. He was completely unprepared for what came out of their mouths.

“So, Kurt Hummel,” began Blaine in a honeyed voice, looking directly into Kurt’s eyes.  “David tells us you are from McKinley High School.”

“That’s right, I am,” replied Kurt, warily, as Blaine looked back at him. “Is that okay?” Kurt pulled back into himself as Blaine looked over at the other two, and Kurt watched the three boys communicating with only their eyes.

David took over the conversation. “What a coincidence that you would come here asking to join the Warblers the day our competition is announced. McKinley High New Directions. Sound familiar?”

Kurt started slightly. “Really? I wasn’t aware of that.”

“So you aren’t here to pull a St. James?” asked Blaine haughtily.

Kurt was confused. “A what?”

Blaine glared at Kurt. “Everyone knows what Jesse St. James did to New Directions last year,” replied Blaine. “It was all over the show choir blogs.”

Wes chimed in. “Spying on another glee club is expressly forbidden in the Show Choir rule book. We need to make sure you aren’t here to try and destroy the Warblers from within.”

Kurt tried to swallow down the tears stinging his eyes. “Well, it’s very civilized for you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying.”

All three of the other boys put their hands up in front of them. Wes said, “No, no. We are not going to beat you up.”

David continued, “Actually, helping you find your way today, and our conversations? I thought you were sort of,” he looked away as he struggled to find a word, “endearing.”

Blaine smiled humbly. “We are really hoping that you _aren’t_ a spy.”

Kurt hesitated, exhaling through an uncomfortable smile. “Can I ask you guys a question?”

All three boys looked at him, serious, solemn, and yet obviously open.

“Are you guys all . . .,” Kurt swallowed hard. If they weren’t, he was outing himself to his new Christian schoolmates, but he had to know. “. . . gay?”

Blaine snorted, and David and Wes smiled as they all began to laugh at his question. “Uh, no,” started Blaine.

Kurt’s face fell as the horror rose up in his gut. What had he done?

“Well, I am, but these guys have girlfriends.”

Kurt felt relief rush through him, and he nearly slumped over in his seat. Blaine was gay. There was another gay boy out of the closet at Dalton. He wasn’t alone anymore. More tears rushed into his eyes, and he shuddered as he tried to breathe and hold them back from spilling over at the same time.

David and Wes were still talking, but Kurt couldn’t hear what they were saying over the rush in his ears.

After several moments of silence, Kurt realized he should have answered whatever it was they had said. Blaine was looking at him, concern written all over his face. “Would you guys excuse us?”

David and Wes looked at each other, then at Kurt. Wes said, “Take it easy, Kurt,” as David said, “See you tomorrow.”

After they were out of earshot, Blaine asked, “I take it you had some trouble at your old school.”

Kurt nodded shortly. “I was the only person out of the closet both at my old school and at church. My dad’s a Baptist pastor.” The tears started rolling down Kurt’s face as his breath shuddered. “I tried so hard to stay strong about it, but there’s this Neanderthal who made it his mission to make my life a living hell.”

Blaine said, “I know how you feel.”

As he continued with his story about being taunted at his previous school, Kurt marveled at his words. Never before had anyone been able to say ‘I know how you feel’ and really meant it. As Blaine continued, saying “No one really cared,” Kurt knew.

He drove home that afternoon feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time.

When Kurt walked through the front door after parking his car in the driveway, his dad was waiting for him with dinner ready to go. “So, how was it?”

Kurt had a dreamy smile on his face. “Amazing, Dad. Absolutely amazing.”

All through dinner, Kurt kept glancing at his phone, hoping it would ring. Burt was watching him carefully. “Is there something you wanna tell me, kiddo?”

Kurt looked up at him. “What? What do you mean?”

“You’re staring at that phone like it holds the secrets of the universe. What’s goin’ on?”

Kurt sat up straighter. Kurt analyzed how much he should be able to tell his dad without having to get too deeply into a conversation. “It’s nothing, really. I just met this boy, Blaine. He was really nice, and he offered to help me with some of the schoolwork. I was hoping he’d call.”

Kurt and Blaine had exchanged numbers when Kurt shared with him how nervous he was about managing the workload and higher levels of classes. Blaine had smiled and said, “Anything you need, Kurt. Just call.”

“Is this Blaine . . .” Burt hesitated before he could say the word, “gay, like you?”

Kurt blushed from the roots of his hair to under his collar. “Um, yeah. Yeah, he is.”

Burt took a deep breath through his nose. “Is this someone you might be interested in?” His forehead crinkled and he bit on the inner edge of his lower lip enough to pull his whole face out of shape.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “C’mon dad, I just met him today.”

“Well, is he cute?” Burt asked, wide-eyed.

Kurt gasped. “Da-ad! What do you mean, asking me that?” Kurt sputtered. “I-I-I don’t even know how to answer that!”

“It’s a yes or no question, son.”

“But, you don’t want to hear me talk about that!” Kurt was almost standing up over his chair.

“If you don’t talk about it with me, who are you going to talk about it with?” Burt sighed. “Look, I may have been late in figuring out how to talk about all this with you, but you’re my kid. I love you. If you need to talk, talk.”

Kurt sat back down. “I think he’s kind-hearted, an excellent singer, and okay, maybe a little cute.”

Burt smiled. “Good. Now tell me about the rest of your day.”

After the dinner interrogation, Kurt went to his room to change out of his uniform. He decided pajamas were the best option after the long day. As he slipped into his sweats and his most comfortable t-shirt, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, hoping it was Blaine, but it was a text from Mercedes.

**from Mercedes: how was your first day? did you survive?**

**from Kurt: pretty good actually**

**from Mercedes: that’s all I get? pretty good?**

**from Kurt: ok really good**

**from Mercedes: were they kind?**

**from Kurt: the most kind**

**from Kurt: even when they thought I was a spy**

******* incoming call from: Mercedes*******

“Hi, ‘Cedes.”

“What do you mean they thought you were a spy?”

Kurt huffed a laugh. “Didn’t you get your sectionals competition letter today?”

“I don’t know. Mr. Schuester didn’t say. Why?” replied Mercedes.

“We-e-ell,” Kurt paused for dramatic effect. “Apparently, New Directions are going to be in direct competition with the Warblers at sectionals this year. My arrival was very suspicious, especially after what happened with Jesse last year.”

“Oh my word, Kurt! What did they do to you?”

“Actually, like I said, they were very nice.” Kurt sighed. “They actually bought me a cup of coffee before they even brought it up, and they believed me right away when I told them I transferred on scholarship because I’m gay.”

“Hold up, you came out on your first day at a Christian school?” Mercedes’ voice grew louder and higher as her questions kept coming. “Don’t you think that’s risky? They could be worse than Karofsky! They could make your life hell, then what will you do? Seriously, Kurt, are you an idiot?”

Kurt held the phone away from his ear until she finished. “Are you done yelling at me now?”

Mercedes cleared her throat. “Sorry. I just--  seriously Kurt, what were you thinking?”

“I was pretty sure a couple of them were gay, too. And let’s be honest, I’m not exactly subtle.” Kurt sighed. “Everyone who meets me knows I’m gay within two minutes.”

Mercedes laughed. “Everyone except me, apparently!”

Kurt continued, “I don’t know if everyone will be as kind, but the guys I met today were pretty cool. And I was right! One of them is out and proud, too!”

Mercedes giggled again. “Another good Christian gay boy for me to pine over, then?”

Kurt laughed with her as they continued their conversation.


	2. The Kiss

The next morning, Kurt woke up at five in the morning to get ready to take the long drive back to Dalton. He had to be on the road by 6:15 in order to be on time for his first class, but the commute was better than asking his dad to pay to board. His scholarship was tuition and uniforms only, and his dad had a wedding to plan for.

It was official. Burt had been contemplating proposing for several months, and he and Kurt had sat down at the dining room table over the weekend to discuss it.

_“I really think it’s right, Kurt. I know marrying her is the right thing for us all.”_

_Kurt hesitated, and then asked, “Why, Dad? Why do you need more than we have?”_

_Burt sighed. “Kurt, it’s not that you aren’t enough, that we aren’t enough together. But I know we can be more with Carole and Finn. We can be better.” His eyes shone with hope._

_“She really makes you happy, doesn’t she, Dad?”_

_Burt’s face sparked with joy. “She really does, bud. She really does. I know it’s a lot, especially with the way Finn used to treat you, but he’s different now, Kurt. He’s doing what he can to make up for it now. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him someday.”_

_“I’ll try, Dad. That’s all I can promise for now.” Kurt clasped his hands on the table in front of him._

_Burt asked hopefully, “So what do you think?”_

_Kurt set his hands down flat and looked his father square in the eyes. “I think you should go for it.”_

_Burt whooped while he jumped out of his chair, leaned over, and gave Kurt a giant bear hug. “You’ll help us plan the wedding, right?”_

The proposal was planned for that Friday, and Kurt knew she’d say yes. There was no way she wouldn’t. Finn would be moving in, and his home would go back to the way it was before he came out to his dad. He’d have to pretend to be less gay so Finn wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He’d have to hide his true self from his family again. At least now school could be a safe haven. Blaine was out and proud, and yet he was still the star of the Warblers. Kurt could be out at school, as long as he didn’t fail out in the meantime.

Not failing out meant finding an extra-curricular or two he could do in order to meet the graduation requirement. Football season was over, and there wasn’t much else in the way of athletics he would think of trying, since Dalton didn’t have a dance team. Thank goodness he was a junior. Only freshman and sophomores were required to participate in a sport. Instead, he’d try for the Warblers. If they wouldn’t take him, he’d have to try speech and debate, or maybe he’d dig through the catalogs Carole had gotten to see if there was a Thespians troupe or another choir.

Kurt had his audition piece picked out before he got to school that morning. Now all he had to do was score an audition. David and Wes weren’t in his first hour class, but they were both in second hour Lit. He approached them before the bell rang.

“Hey guys.”

“Kurt! Good to see you again.”

“Thanks. Hey, you never answered my question yesterday. What is the procedure for auditioning for the Warblers?”

“Simple, really. We do open call in the fall. If your voice fits, you’re in. Since open auditions are done, we’d usually have to call a special meeting to have you audition for the group.”

“When can we schedule that?”

“We rehearse after school every day. Come on by this afternoon, and we’ll listen to you sing after rehearsal.”

“Great!”

The bell rang then, and Kurt focused his attention on the teacher and the learning. His hand was going to lose all feeling at the rate he found himself taking notes.

That afternoon, he walked into the choir room and was once again struck by how different Dalton was to McKinley. The Warblers rehearsed in an expansive, wood-paneled room with hardwood floors, full-length French doors, and chandeliers with candelabras and framed oil paintings hanging on the walls. The council was seated at a mahogany table underneath a silk banner declaring “Dalton Warblers” while the rest of the group was seated in the rich leather couches and chairs that filled one half of the room. The other half of the room was set up as a rehearsal stage, with room for the entire choir to perform a full number, dancing and all, without danger of running into anyone.  To Kurt’s surprise, there were no risers to be found, nor hard plastic chairs. The boys were quiet as the council introduced him to the choir. He couldn’t remember New Directions ever sitting quietly or still as long as the Warblers did. He wondered curiously if there was something they could add to the water at McKinley to make them behave in a more civilized manner before realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to go back with his friends.

“This is Mr. Kurt Hummel, a new transfer from McKinley High School in Lima,” began David.

Wes continued, “We were initially concerned, considering that his former choir, the New Directions, are our direct competition at sectionals, but Warbler Blaine assures us that Kurt has valid reasons for his transfer, and there is no danger of him returning to McKinley.”

Thad, the third member of the council, looked over at Kurt. “Kurt has prepared a short audition piece for us. Kurt? Please introduce yourself and your song.”

Kurt stepped forward, and began to speak. “Good afternoon, and thank you for staying a bit late to allow me to audition. I am a pastor’s kid from Lima. My dad is pastor of Spirit of Peace Baptist. This song reminds me so much of my mother, who died when I was little. We used to listen to the Beatles together all the time. But most importantly, it reminds me of the importance of friends.” He began to sing.

 

 _What would you do if I sing out of tune  
_ _Would you stand up and walk out on me  
_ _Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song  
_ _And I’ll try not to sing out of key_  


At that moment, several of the Warblers came in, grinning, with perfect harmony.

Kurt smiled and continued.

_I get by with a little help from my friends.  
_ _I sing high with a little help from my friends.  
_ _I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends._

By the end of the song, all the guys were grinning and singing their hearts out. The council asked Kurt to stand in the hallway, and within minutes, Blaine was opening the door with a smile that could power an entire city.

When Kurt walked back into the room, he heard Wes’s voice saying, “Let’s welcome the newest addition to the Warblers, Kurt Hummel.” The room burst into applause as Kurt walked across to the council table, shyly looking down at the floor, still afraid to meet everyone’s eyes. Just because Dalton had a zero-tolerance policy on bullying didn’t change the fact that it was a Christian school. Surely some of these boys must feel the same as the boys at his dad’s church.

Wes continued, “In our oldest tradition for our newest Warbler, an actual warbler.”

Blaine walked over, carrying a cage. “Kurt, meet Pavarotti.”

Wes explained the tradition as Kurt watched Blaine. Kurt’s nerves frayed as he realized all eyes were on him. Several jokes about coal mines and cats popped into his head, but he decided to keep silent. He wasn’t sure just how many of the boys might already feel ill will towards him, since everyone who’d ever met him knew immediately he was gay. He didn’t want to give these boys any reason to hate him. Despite all evidence to the contrary that he’d seen that day, Kurt knew that Christian boys could end up just as cruel or more cruel than regular kids. So instead of joking around, he thanked the council for the opportunity to take care of Pavarotti, then sat on a couch, waiting to see what happened next.

 

That evening, Carole and Finn joined his dad and him at dinner. It was amazing to watch his dad turn into a bumbling schoolboy with a crush when Carole was in the room. It was almost adorable, if it didn’t freak Kurt out so much, knowing that his dad would be proposing in a few short days. Finn was complaining that Mr. Schuester and Mr. Figgins were both out of school with some sort of terrible flu and Rachel and Mercedes were on the warpath with their substitutes. Kurt listened quietly but didn’t want to interject. He didn’t want to risk Finn noticing him and going off on him again. Nothing should spoil it for his dad when he looked that happy.

Eventually, Carole turned aside to him and asked, “So did anything special happen at Dalton today?”

Kurt replied quietly, “I auditioned for their glee club. I got in!”

Burt and Finn continued their conversation on the other side of the table.

Kurt added, “They gave me a bird to take care of, you know? Like a warbler.”

Carole squinched her nose up. “You have to take care of a bird? Like, is that some kind of hazing thing?”

Kurt cracked a smile. “I guess? I don’t know. The whole group was really formal and really weird. There definitely wouldn’t be any buttering up the floor for a substitute teacher there!”

* * *

 

As usual, his dad asked him on Wednesday if Kurt would go to the youth group at church with Finn. Kurt tried to reason with him, but his dad kept pushing him to attend. Kurt eventually agreed, just to keep the peace. He didn’t want his dad’s blood pressure to spike. He sat in the corner as had been his usual before he stopped attending regularly. Finn went and sat with the group, singing along to the choruses the band was playing, making small talk with the kids around him.

Just at the end of the music time the door slammed open and David Karofsky walked into the room, flanked immediately by two other boys that might have been linebackers with him. Finn’s face lit up and he went over and gave all three of them a high five. They chatted for a few minutes, patting each other on the back and bumping shoulders, until the leader got up in front of the group and called it back to order. The football players joined Finn in his row when they sat down, David sitting right next to him. Kurt’s heart went cold, realizing that Finn was closer friends with a boy that would bully Kurt than he was with Kurt himself.

During the bible study portion of the evening, Kurt kept his focus mainly on the book inside his bible case, knowing from experience how futile it was to try and engage the parent in charge in any sort of reasonable discourse.  The night’s topic was purity and keeping their minds clear of all distractions except for God’s will for their lives. Kurt wondered why on earth he should care about God’s will for his life when God apparently had so little regard for Kurt. The more he thought about it, the more angry he became.

Kurt couldn’t stand the conversation any longer, so he got up and tried to sneak quietly out the door. When Kurt went to the bathroom by himself, Dave came in and cornered him. “What are you doing here, fairy? Spreading your fairy dust to the whole world?”

Kurt had had enough. “What is your problem, Karofsky? I’ve never done anything to you. If my dad can accept me for what I am, what business is it of yours?”

“Maybe I don’t want you sneaking a peek at my junk while I’m taking a piss, Hummel.”

“Yeah, right. Every straight boy’s nightmare. Guess what, hamhock. You’re not my type. I don’t dig on chubby boys who sweat and are gonna be bald by the time they’re thirty.”

“Don’t push me, Hummel!” Dave raised his fist.

Kurt replied, back still to the wall, “You gonna hit me? Do it! Hit me, cause it’s not gonna change who I am. You can’t punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!”

“GET OUT OF MY FACE!”

“You are nothing but a scared little boy who can’t handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!”

The next thing Kurt knew, Dave’s hands clasped around his cheeks and he pinned Kurt to the wall with his lips on Kurt’s. Hot, stinky breath filled his mouth and nose as he tried to get his hands in between them. Karofsky stepped back and made a whining noise, then leaned in to try to kiss Kurt again.

This time, Kurt was able to get his hands on his chest and shove him back. Karofsky whined and punched at the wall behind Kurt while Kurt sank to the floor in horror.

Dave kicked at Kurt and ran towards the door. He turned around briefly before he walked out and spat at Kurt, saying “You tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you.”

Kurt stayed on the floor, hands covering his mouth, shaking and unable to breathe, unable to move.

There was no one he could call, no one he could turn to.

He had never felt so utterly alone.


	3. A wedding and a confrontation

Friday evening, Kurt and Blaine were out with Mercedes at Breadstix so they all got to witness Burt getting down on one knee and offering to live his life in loving sacrifice to Carole. The entire restaurant applauded when she shrieked “Yes, of course, YES!” and they kissed for an absolutely embarrassing length of time.

Burt asked Kurt for help planning the wedding the next morning. Kurt pondered ideas from his wedding magazine collection all the way to Dalton and all the way home. The long commute was certainly good for thinking time. After supper that evening, he and his father went down to Kurt’s bedroom to look through some of Kurt’s wedding magazines, and when Kurt pulled the box out from under his bed, he realized he’d forgotten about the muscle magazines on top of it until it was too late.

“Kurt, what on earth are those?”

Kurt groaned internally. Great. How was he supposed to explain that to his pastor dad?

“Where did you get these magazines, bud? They’re from way before your time.”

Kurt sighed. “A friend of mine gave them to me, Dad. But we’re here to look at weddings, right?”

“Now, slow down a minute. We need to have a discussion about this. What do you do with those magazines?”

“Seriously? What do you think I do, Dad?”

Burt didn’t hesitate. “I’m guessing you look at them and lust after the men. Probably even masturbate to them, am I right?”

“DAD!” yelped Kurt. “I’m not discussing this with you!”

“Yes, you are,” declared Burt. “Am I close?” Burt and Kurt stared each other down until Kurt squirmed in his seat.

“Kind of, I guess?”

“You guess?”

Kurt huffed in frustration. “Fine, yes. That’s exactly what I do. It’s not like there is anybody real I can think about, Dad. If they ever even thought I might, they’d beat me up.”

“Guess what, though,” replied Burt. “Pornographic pictures can cause real problems in relationships.”

“Fine, right. I know. And masturbation is against biblical principles. I know. I know. I’m sorry, okay?”

Burt looked up sharply, eyes wide. “Who told you that?!”

“Who told me what?”

“That masturbation violates biblical principles?”

Kurt looked dumbfounded. “Uh, youth group leaders? Kids at school? Everyone ever in the church?”

Burt chuckled, and Kurt turned to storm out. “Well, everyone ever in the church isn’t me, and they’re all wrong.”

Kurt realized what his dad actually said. “Wait, it’s not? I mean, they are?”

Burt started laughing for real, a deep down, in his belly laugh. “I’ve been single for eight years, Kurt. Believe me, if masturbation was against God’s plan, I’d be going to hell for sure.”

Kurt put his fingers in his ears and started singing “LA LA LA LA LA”, which made Burt laugh even harder.

“Are we done now?” asked Kurt.

“Nope. Not even close,” replied Burt. “I’m extremely serious about the pornography, Kurt. Looking at pictures that have been airbrushed, like these, or photoshopped like the ones on the internet can really screw up your mind. No real person looks like that. I’d hate for you to finally find someone who is like you, and interested in you, but your mind is looking for someone that looks like this, instead. Real people aren’t perfect, and they can’t measure up to this.”

Kurt looked straight into his dad’s eyes, searching for anger or a hidden agenda. He didn’t see either one. “So you mean you’re not mad at me?”

“No bud, I’m not mad. I promise,” replied Burt. “I love you, forever and always, no matter what. But I really want you to think long and hard about what I said and get rid of these magazines. Trust me, real life is so much better than your wildest fantasies, anyway.”

“Okay, dad. I’ll throw them out. Just promise me something, okay?”

“What?”

“Two things: one, never use the phrase ‘think long and hard’ again in my presence, and please, God, don’t ever, ever talk about your masturbatory habits ever again, anywhere.”

Burt burst out laughing as Kurt grabbed the pile of magazines to take out to the trash.

Finn and Carole started coming over for dinner every evening to give everyone a chance to get used to the idea of being a family. One evening, while discussing the wedding, Burt looked over at Kurt and told him the only thing he really cared about was having a good band. Music mattered more than anything so that he and Carole could get their boogie on. Kurt looked at Finn and suggested, “What do you think? Could New Directions pull this off? I’m pretty sure the Warblers would say no in a heartbeat.”

Finn smiled. “That’s a great idea. I’ll ask Mr. Schue tomorrow.”

Of course, the glee club said yes. Reverend Jones was set to perform the ceremony in Burt’s church, since he couldn’t very well marry himself. Burt just had one final request for Kurt.

“Son, I would really appreciate it if in addition to being my best man, you could find it in your heart to sing a solo in church one last time.”

Kurt sighed. “I would love to, Dad, but I just don’t think I could sing a Christian song and mean it.”

“I know you don’t think you believe anymore, and as much as I hate that you were so hurt, I understand why you feel the way you do. The song I want you to sing is actually that Rascal Flatts song called Broken Road. I think it tells Carole’s and my story perfectly, don’t you?”

Kurt’s eyes welled up with tears, thinking about the chorus of the song.

_Every long lost dream led me to where you are  
_ _And others who broke my heart they were like northern stars  
_ _Pointing me on my way into your loving arms  
_ _This much I know is true  
_ _That God blessed the broken road  
_ _That led me straight to you._

“It’s perfect, dad. It’s also a duet. Do you think it would be okay if Finn or Blaine sang it with me?”

Tears filled Burt’s eyes and began streaming down his face as he nodded.

Finn accepted the offer to sing it with no hesitation whatsoever. “Dude, that’s so awesome.”  Kurt just shook his head, smiling.

The day of the wedding, when Finn and Kurt sang the song during the lighting of the unity candle, there wasn’t a dry eye in the church. Once again, the congregation was moved to tears by Kurt’s voice, but the conversation in the lobby this time was all about how his angelic voice had only gotten more beautiful with time.

Sectionals came up quickly after the wedding. Kurt was asked to prepare an audition for a solo, but Rachel’s suggestion of “Don’t Cry for me Argentina” was far too theatrical for the Warblers’ sensibilities. The only benefit of his failed audition was some extra time with Blaine, working to help Kurt fit in at Dalton, because apparently getting noticed didn’t work well when everyone wore the same uniform.

It turned out that he needn’t have worried about Finn making his home feel more hostile after all. He was always up and out the door before Finn ever thought about getting out of bed, and between the commute, his homework, Blaine’s “lessons” over coffee, and Warbler practice, Kurt was hardly ever there in the evenings.  Despite being thoroughly exhausted, Kurt was having trouble falling asleep at night. As soon as he lay in his bed, he would feel eyes on him, watching. Sometimes, he thought he could hear breathing. He took to leaving a light on in his room.

One night, when Kurt was getting in the door around nine, Burt was sitting at the kitchen table, obviously waiting for him.

“Dad? What are you waiting up for? Don’t you have an early staff meeting tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, I do, but I wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

Kurt looked at him, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well,” replied Burt, “we’ve hardly seen you, bud. Last weekend you had rehearsal all day Saturday and Sunday afternoon, so you missed church to drive out there. This Saturday is going to be Sectionals, so we won’t see you again. I wanted to see my son.”

“Still, I come home okay every day, don’t I?”

Burt sighed and looked Kurt straight in the eyes. “Kurt, there are boneheads in the world. Boneheads who don’t like you because of the way God made you. Sue me, but I get worried about you being out late all by yourself or alone with another guy.”

Kurt raised his left eyebrow, thinking of one bonehead in particular that his dad was familiar with, one whose name he could barely think about, much less say aloud. “Alone with a guy? Who are you worried I’m alone with, Dad?”

“Kurt, it’s not like that. I know you and Blaine are friends having coffee together. But I also know Ohio.  I just really want to know you’re safe at home before I go to bed at night. That’s all.”

“Well, I’m here now, so it’s safe to sleep.”

“Good night, kiddo.”

“Good night.”

Burt got up from the table and shuffled tiredly towards the stairs.

Kurt watched him walk away. “Hey, Dad?”

Burt turned around. “Yeah?”

Kurt walked over and wrapped his arms around Burt’s neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, bud. Forever and always. No matter what.”

* * *

 

That night, Kurt fell asleep much faster than he had since that evening in the church bathroom. He felt comfortable enough to turn the light off when he lay down, snuggled under his comforter in his soft flannel pajamas, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later, he awoke with a start, sweating through his pajamas. He could barely breathe, because his heart was pounding its way out of his chest. His room was pitch black. He felt the aftertaste of Karofsky’s breath in his mouth and his hands on his neck. He opened his mouth to call out or scream, and then he realized he’d just had a nightmare.

He turned over, punched his pillow, and tried to focus on taking slow, deep breaths. He lasted about fifteen seconds, tops, before his mind started racing. He flipped on his side, breathed in through his nose, and out through his mouth, working hard to empty his mind. Nothing worked. He threw his hands above his head, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it.  Despite his exhaustion, sleep didn’t return to him for another long hour.

* * *

 

Despite not getting a solo, Kurt was still in the front row of the Warblers for sectionals, right next to Blaine, who did get one. Kurt was incredibly nervous, and he could see Rachel in the crowd, reminding him to smile the whole time. When they stepped off stage, the rest of the boys were jumping around, patting each other on the back about the standing ovation they’d received, but Kurt knew Rachel and Mercedes had started it just for him.

Kurt stood off to the side, smiling a little as everyone celebrated, but he didn’t feel right joining in. The Warblers were his choir now, but in actual fact, he still felt closer to the New Directions than anyone else in the world. It was hard to celebrate when he knew they were coming up next. More than anything, he wished he could be out there singing with his old friends. Blaine came over to him, put a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Everything okay?”

Kurt turned his head to look Blaine in the eye. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ah, but you’re not fine now. What’s up?”

Kurt shrugged. “I guess I just realized today how much I miss my friends. They’re crazy, but they’re mine.”

Blaine smiled and took Kurt by the hand. “C’mon. Let’s go find a seat and watch them sing.”

The final result of the competition was a tie. Kurt wondered if the Warblers would have even had a chance if Rachel had been singing, but then decided he didn’t care after all. He had bigger things to worry about, like Pavarotti, who had stopped singing and whose feathers were falling out. Kurt knew nothing about birds before he’d been given one, and the Google search he had done on his lunch break turned up lots of confusing information. Kurt knew immediately who to text.

_Blaine, as Pavarotti’s previous owner, please help me! I’m in the choir room!_

No more than two minutes later, Blaine dashed into the room. “Hey, I got your text! What’s wrong?”

After Kurt explained what had been happening and Blaine explained about the molting process, they sat next to each other on the couch in awkward silence.

“Don’t forget, Warbler practice tonight at five.” Blaine leaned into Kurt’s space. “regionals, here we come!” Blaine stood, patted Kurt on the shoulder, and left the room as Kurt sat and watched, wondering if Blaine realized what it did to Kurt to have another person besides his dad so willing to touch him so casually.

Kurt sat there a moment longer before looking at his watch, picking up Pavarotti, and heading off to find some dinner. It would be another long evening at rehearsal and even longer on the road. He would have to fuel up well.

 

Life at Dalton went on as usual. Lots of homework, lots of tests, tons of papers, and the Warblers working late into the evening four nights a week. The push towards winter break and Christmas was intense. At least all the major due dates were before break. It looked like other than reading a novel for his English Lit class, Kurt would be home free for the duration of his vacation.

He was studying intently for a history test by the fire in the choir room one afternoon between the end of classes and Warblers rehearsal when Blaine came in carrying a boom box, asking for help for an upcoming performance. As they danced around the room to the sweet sounds of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, Kurt found himself consciously flirting with the boy that was quickly becoming the stuff of his dreams. He was surprised to find Blaine flirting back just as hard. Blaine’s eyes could have belonged to a puppy, and he was pouting so hard on some of his lines.  As the song ended, Kurt thought for half a second that maybe Blaine would lean in and kiss him, but Blaine looked away awkwardly and complimented Kurt on his performance, instead.

Mr. Schuester arrived as Blaine was leaving with a problem Kurt knew exactly how to solve. They walked out together on their way to get a Secret Santa gift for one Ms. Sue Sylvester.

“So tell me more about your new friend. Do you sing together?”

Kurt smiled softly. “Yeah. He’s got a great voice.”

“I heard him at sectionals.” Mr. Schuester opened the front door of the school. “Was that the two of you I heard as I was coming down the hall?”

“Probably. I was helping him practice for a show at King’s Island.” They continued toward the parking lot. Kurt stepped around a puddle that had frozen over.

“The King’s Island Spectacular? At Winter Fest?”

“Yeah, do you know it?”

“I performed there when I was about your age, too. I didn’t know they were still doing that!”

“I guess they are.” Mr. Schuester led Kurt to his car and they got in.

They went to the mall in Columbus together to find Sue a fur-lined tracksuit. Their best option was at Sears.

“I can’t thank you enough for your help with this, Kurt. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

Kurt hesitated, stopping in the middle of the mall. “Mr. Schuester, if I may?”

Mr. Schuester look back over his shoulder. “Of course. What do you need?”

“Well, it seems to me that you could have tried doing something about the bullying at McKinley. Don’t get me wrong, I love Dalton, and I’m so grateful for the chance to be there, but I never should have had to leave McKinley and all my friends.”

Mr. Schuester looked down at the floor and sighed. “I agree, Kurt. I’m so sorry that no one ever stood up for you or put the bullies in their place.”

“Well, it’s too late for me now.”

They started walking towards the main entrance to the mall again. When they made it out of the mall and to Mr. Schuester’s car, Mr. Schuester put his hand on Kurt’s arm. “I’m going to try, Kurt. I’m going to try and get something done to fix the problem so you can come back where you belong.”

Kurt attempted to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew that with Karofsky still a presence at McKinley, he would never be able to go back.

“Seriously, Kurt. I want to fix things.”

“Good luck with that, Mr. Schuester. If Mr. Figgins won’t do anything, then I don’t see what you can do on your own.”

They were silent all the way back to Dalton, until Kurt got out of the car and said, “Goodbye, Mr. Schuester. Good luck.”

“Goodbye, Kurt. I’ll see you soon.”

Kurt huffed in disbelief as he turned to walk towards his car and head home.

* * *

 

At Friday night dinner one week, Finn was telling the story of how Mr. Schuester had apparently tried to keep his word and get McKinley’s bullies to sing with the Glee club, but now the majority of the football team had quit, just in time for the championship game.  

The following Monday afternoon, he and Blaine were sitting down for coffee with Mercedes and Rachel after school when they mentioned the problem to Blaine, who explained how it was possible to play with only nine players on the field. The girls walked out of the coffee shop talking about how they might be able to help.

Kurt looked over at Blaine and said, “This I’ve got to see.”

Blaine smiled. “I can arrange that.”

When Friday evening rolled around, Kurt and Blaine bundled up in their warmest coats and scarves and set next to Carole and Burt in the stands, watching Kurt’s friends get beaten soundly on the field. The entire time they were sitting there, Kurt felt his skin crawling, never knowing when or how he would run into Karofsky, but almost sure it would happen.

Kurt finally spotted him on the sidelines while Kurt and Blaine were dancing along to the rest of the football players, the glee club, and the marching band performing an incredible halftime show mashup. Kurt watched him out of the corner of his eye, wishing that he could ignore his former bully but feeling on edge with him nearby. After halftime, the entire football team showed up to play in their full zombie makeup. McKinley won the game at the last second and the entire crowd leapt to their feet. Kurt kept his eye on Karofsky as he helped the team win the game and then sat down suddenly when Finn walked over and put his arm around Dave. Never in his wildest imagination could Kurt imagine a friendship between Finn and Karofsky that involved hugs, even side hugs like that one. Kurt realized again just how little he and Finn would ever understand each other.

After the game, as they were filing out of the bleachers, Kurt kept his eyes on the ground, barely noticing the buzz of the crowd and the people around him, pondering what he’d seen between his step-brother and his bully. His father and Blaine flanked him and Carole was in front of him, leading the way towards the locker room. Kurt felt a hand grab his shoulder, and he stood up straight, whirling around to see Dave standing behind him.

“Kurt, could I talk to you, please?”

Burt stopped and looked back, drawing himself to his full height. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, kid?”

Dave looked back at Burt. “Pastor Hummel, sir, I know you have no reason at all to trust me, but I just wanted to apologize.”

Kurt’s eyes widened as Burt’s narrowed. “Apologize? For beating my son black and blue? Is that what you’re saying?”

Dave stuttered, “I – I – I never meant to hurt him, sir. Really.”

Kurt and Burt scoffed in synchrony. Burt stepped between Kurt and Dave, while Blaine took Kurt’s hand to pull him away. Burt then lashed out, “What the hell did you think was gonna’ happen when you knocked him across a hallway? Every time you shoved him into a wall or a locker?”

Finn came running up from behind them, pushing Blaine aside in the process, and yelling, “Burt! Your heart!”

Burt held out his hand to stop Finn without taking his eyes off of David for a second. “You stay away from my sons. Both of ‘em. You hear me?”

“Yes sir. I will sir. I’m so sorry.” Dave turned and ran back the way he’d come.

Burt turned his head so he could look Finn square in the eye. “And you, what the hell do you think you’re doing, being all buddy-buddy with the guy that hurt your brother?”

Kurt spoke up then. “Dad, he’s not my brother.”

Finn and Burt both whipped around to look at Kurt then, Finn looking wounded and Burt’s eyes full of question marks.

Finn asked, “What the heck, dude? Of course we’re brothers. We even sang together at the wedding and everything!”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Finn? We hardly see each other. You practically avoid me all the time. Now you are best friends with the guy who threatened to kill me and made it impossible for me to stay at McKinley.”

Everyone turned to look at Kurt.

Kurt snapped, “What?”

Finn said, “He did what?” at the exact same moment that Burt said “He threatened to what?” and Carole put her hands up to cover her mouth. Blaine’s eyes were wide in shock.

Kurt thought back over what he had blurted out. _Crap._ “He, well, he told me if I told anyone about how he bullied me that he’d kill me.”

Blaine reached out and put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “Kurt, that’s serious! You need to tell the authorities!”

Kurt hunched over on himself. “I can’t. It was just him and I. No one would believe me anyway.”

“I believe you, son.” Kurt looked up at his dad, who continued, “I believe you, and I will be talking to his parents first thing at church this Sunday.”

“NO! Dad, you can’t!” Kurt said.

“Why the heck not?” asked Burt. “Their son threatened to kill my son. They darn well ought to know about that.”

“But Dad!”

“No, Kurt. This has gone on long enough. You have been tormented and hated on by the people God called to love others. People are going to hear about it, and they will hear about it from me.”

* * *

 

Thirty-six hours later, Kurt found himself sitting in his dad’s office after church on Sunday while Paul and David Karofsky sat opposite him. David’s mother had been too distraught to hear her son had threatened the pastor’s son, and so Carole had taken her to the ladies’ room to calm her down and clean her up.

Burt was seated behind his desk, leaning forward in his chair. “Now, young man, do you mind telling me what you thought you were doing, threatening to kill my son if he reported your bullying?”

“Pastor Burt, sir, Kurt, you have to know I never actually meant that. It was just a figure of speech!”

“How exactly was he supposed to know that, son?” asked Burt. “Do you joke about murder often?”

Paul Karofsky jumped in. “Seriously, David? In this society, in this world, you throw out a death threat? You’re lucky they didn’t call the police! I am a deacon in this church. I raised you to be kind, a good citizen--”

David jumped up from his chair. “Well, look at him, Dad? He’s gross! He walked around school like he owns the place, and like it’s his right to leave his fairy dust all through the halls.”

Kurt flinched.

David’s father stood up as well. “David, honestly, it doesn’t matter what he does. Threatening to kill someone is not acceptable. Thou shall not murder. It’s part of the Ten Commandments!”

Burt interjected, “And Jesus had a lot to say about anger and threatening to hurt people, as well. In Matthew 5, he said, ‘But I say, if you are even angry with someone, you are subject to judgment! If you call someone an idiot, you are in danger of being brought before the court. And if you curse someone, you are in danger of the fires of hell.’ What you are doing is not okay with God.”

“Well, neither is being gay. The Bible says that, too!”

Burt replied, “Now see here, young man, whatever you think of him, you don’t actually believe you have the right to hurt him or threaten to kill him, do you?”

Paul sighed, sat back down, and put his head in his hands while David clenched his fist in anger and spoke in a low voice. “With all due respect Pastor Hummel, your son is a fag. He’s gay and doesn’t care who knows it. If it were up to him –“

“That’s enough young man,” said Burt sternly, his face growing redder by the second. “You cannot use that word in this building.”

At that moment, David’s mother stepped through the door. “You—YOU! You would defend a faggot and yell at my son, a good, moral young man? Paul, we are leaving.”

Paul looked up, cast his eyes toward Burt for half a second, and huffed. He stood, grabbed Dave by the shoulder, and the Karofsky family left through the office without once looking back.


	4. The Warblers Gap Attack

Kurt went back to Dalton Monday morning and went about his day. His World History class first hour has progressed past Charlemagne, through the crusades and the black plague, and made it into the Renaissance. As he was taking notes on the lecture, he found his mind drifting to the conversation in his dad’s office again and again.

“Mr. Hummel? Excuse me, Mr. Hummel? Earth to Mr. Hummel!” Kurt came back to the classroom with a start. Of course, Mr. McKeane called on him. Kurt had no idea what the question was he was supposed to be answering.

Trent, who was sitting in front of him, stretched one arm across his chest and around his back, dropping a small piece of paper that fortunately for Kurt, landed right side up. _What are some of the arguments skeptics have against the Italian Renaissance?_

“Certain critics have said that the Renaissance period in Europe was a throwback to the Middle Ages, and that those people who’ve named it a rebirth ignore the historical relevance of other areas of the world, which continued to thrive during Europe’s so-called Dark Ages.”  

Mr. McKeane’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded his head. “Excellent, Hummel. Anyone else have another argument for or against the naming of this time period?”

Kurt sighed under his breath, leaned forward, and whispered “Thank you” to Trent.

On their way out of class, Trent grabbed Kurt’s arm, letting go quickly when Kurt flinched hard.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to scare you!” Trent said. “What the hell happened in there? You know as well as I do that McKeane would give you detention so fast if he caught you  daydreaming!”

“I owe you one, Trent. A big one. Thanks for covering for me.” Kurt turned to head to English.

“Kurt- you can tell me if something’s wrong you know.” Trent sounded so sincere. “It’s not like you to be so out of it in class.”

Kurt turned back around to face Trent. “Thanks Trent. I’m fine. This is just something I have to deal with on my own.” Kurt wheeled around and walked away as fast as he could.

Later that afternoon, Blaine stopped him in the hallway as he was headed from Madame LeClaire’s French class to Geometry. “Hey Kurt. Is everything okay?”

Kurt replied tiredly, “Of course. I’m fine.”

Blaine tipped his head slightly to the side and looked at Kurt with his eyebrows furrowed. “Wes and David said you hadn’t done the reading for English Lit, and Trent asked me specifically if I knew why you’d be daydreaming in History this morning. What gives?”

Kurt huffed and frowned. “I don’t have time to get into it now.”

Blaine straightened his head, pulled his uniform jacket down in the front, and said, “Lima Bean, after rehearsal, not taking no for an answer.”

Kurt let his frown loosen slightly. “Well if you insist.”

“I do, Mr. Hummel, I do.” Blaine smiled tentatively, and Kurt did the best he could to return Blaine’s smile. Somehow, his last two classes went just a little bit better knowing he was getting coffee with his new best friend at the end of the day.

When they were in line at the coffee shop, there were hearts and kitschy decorations everywhere.

Blaine gushed, “Isn’t there just something wonderful about a day set aside for telling someone ‘I’m in love with you?”’

“Really,” Kurt replied skeptically.

“Yeah. You know, this year, I want to do something kind of special. There’s this guy I’ve been hanging out with. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit, and I think my feelings are starting to change. I was thinking I could sing to him. Is that too much, do you think?”

Kurt stared at Blaine in wonder.

“What?” Blaine asked. “It’s weird, isn’t it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked!”

“No, no. It’s just-- unexpected,” replied Kurt. “It could be lovely, if you choose the right song.”

They continued to the cashier, and Kurt’s jaw dropped again when Blaine ordered Kurt’s coffee exactly correctly.

Kurt started to let himself hope a little bit.

They went and sat down at a quiet table in the corner and began discussing song selection for the number Blaine wanted to sing. Blaine got out his phone, and they shared earbuds while Kurt gave thumbs up or thumbs down for each song. Kurt giggled at some of the more sappy songs and was mortified at some of the sexier tunes. Blaine kept bumping his shoulder when Kurt would indicate that he liked a particular song, smiling at him, and even winking once. The more time they spent together, the more Kurt began to realize that Blaine was flirting with him again.

Kurt was astounded to realize that Blaine, the heartthrob, the guide, the one that makes his heart beat faster, might actually feel something for him. It seemed possible, even likely, that Blaine was trying to determine the right song to sing to Kurt. Neither of them even remembered to discuss Kurt’s earlier distraction, as Kurt’s heart was pounding in excitement instead of fear.  

He encouraged Blaine to go for it, and then drove home, singing _Katrina and the Waves_ at the top of his lungs.

 _I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure  
_ _And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my door  
_ _Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down  
_ _'Cause I just can't wait 'til you write me you're coming around_

_I'm walking on sunshine, woah…_

His father noticed his good mood immediately when Kurt walked through the door. “What’s going on with you, Kurt? I haven’t seen your face shine like that since the last time you sang with your mom!”

Kurt’s smile dropped immediately at the mention of his mother. He walked past his father at the kitchen table and went downstairs to his room, where everything that had happened in the last few days hit him. “ _How ridiculous it is for me to get worked up because of a boy? Even if he loves me, no one is going to let us be together. Not in Ohio. How could I be so stupid?”_

Kurt got out his journal and began writing:

 _So this happened: Two guys seem to like me. One of them is so torn up about the idea that he has to punish_ me _for his feelings. He seems to think that if he beats the gay out of me, that it will somehow magically disappear from him. His parents threatened my dad, too. Could you imagine how hellish my life would be if Dad were like them?_

_I thought he was once. I thought he’d hate me. Turns out I’m pretty lucky._

_Speaking of lucky, the other guy that likes me? He’s gorgeous. He’s kind, and smart, and everything I could ever imagine wanting a boyfriend to be. Except we go to a Christian school in Ohio. There is no way we could ever truly be together, because his parents or the school or the church my dad works for would force us to end it._

_Why bother? Why should I bother to even try anymore?_

_Too bad there is no such thing as heaven. If my mom were really alive in a place like that, I’d try going there. Soon._

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, back at school, Kurt took one look at Blaine walking in the halls and couldn’t stop the hope from forming. He tried to bite back a grin, but it kept blossoming at the most unexpected moments. Even through his reticence to think it would work, he found himself doodling his and Blaine’s names together in hearts in his notebooks. Just before lunch that day, Blaine caught him in the hallway, inviting him to an emergency meeting of the Warblers, only to inform them all that his crush was the assistant manager at the GAP.

After the meeting, Kurt was utterly devastated. He went straight home, skipping his afternoon classes.

To his surprise, his father was already home as well, reading a letter at the kitchen table.

“Dad! What are you doing home?”

“I should ask you the same thing, shouldn’t I?” Burt looked up from the letter. “Seems to me you should still be in class for another hour.”

Kurt sighed. “Something happened, and I needed to get out of there.”

Burt’s eyes flashed. “Someone harassing you, kid? I thought they weren’t allowed to do that there.”

“Nothing like that, Dad. Just a Warbler thing.” Kurt walked over and sat down at the table across from his father. “Whatcha reading?”

Burt groaned. “Just a letter telling me that the church board is calling a special meeting to decide whether or not I should remain pastor considering my ‘unorthodox views’ on the sanctity of marriage.”

Kurt started. “Wait, what?”

Burt continued, “They are telling me that if I don’t go back to preaching against homosexuality they will void my pastorship and try to take away my ordination.”

“Can they do that?” Kurt asked. “Dad, that’s not fair!”

“They absolutely can. At least, they can fire me. Since I’m ordained, not just licensed, they actually can’t take away my ability to pastor a church. They can get my license revoked, meaning I can’t pastor in a Baptist church again, but I will always have my ordination.”

“Wait, I’m confused. You aren’t licensed by the state?”

Burt replied, “Don’t worry about it, kid. I still have my job for now, and I’m not planning on letting that change. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my job, son.”

Kurt pulled back with a start, unable to believe his ears. He had actually started to hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different for him in the future.

Kurt began to cry.

“Buddy, what’s wrong? I just told you, I’m not planning to let them fire me!” Burt tried to rub Kurt’s shoulders, but Kurt pulled away.

“I always knew you’d go back to their way of preaching. I knew it!” Kurt stood up from his chair and attempted to go down to his room.

Burt grabbed Kurt’s arm, stopping him from walking away. “Hey! Give me more credit than that!”

“What the hell, Dad? How am I ever supposed to trust you again? You go and do ‘whatever it takes’ to keep your job. Preach your gays are going to hell sermons. I will find somewhere else to live.” Kurt tried to wrench his arm out of his father’s grasp.

“I will never again preach a sermon like that Kurt! I thought we’d settled this. I love you. I will always love you, no matter what. I don’t think you’re going to hell because of how God made you!”

Kurt stopped trying to pull away. Burt kept a hand on his arm anyway. “How exactly are you going to keep your job then?”

“The rules are pretty clear. The Deacon board can’t fire me without a vote from the entire congregation. Baptist churches are self-governing, so if I’ve convinced enough people, they won’t fire me. If I haven’t, then I need to move on, anyway.”

“Wow. Do you think -,” Kurt hesitated. “Are there enough people who won’t want to throw you out, then?”

“I’m feeling pretty confident, bud. Now, are you planning to tell me why you’re home early?” Burt asked. “What happened with the Warblers?”

Kurt moaned. “I really don’t want to talk about it. I think I need a cup of hot chocolate and maybe some chocolate chip cookies. Want to help make them?”

“I’d love to. Especially if we can put whipped cream on that cocoa.”

Kurt snorted. “No fat, dad. How about marshmallows, instead?”

“Fine, kiddo. Marshmallows it is.”

That Friday evening, Kurt went to a sleepover at Rachel’s house with Mercedes. They binged on pizza, dissed on boys, and Kurt was finally able to let out some of his emotional distress over his misunderstanding with Blaine. He was determined to be a good friend to Blaine, so he planned to meet everyone at the GAP on Saturday morning for the “Warblers’ Gap Attack”, as Blaine had coined it.

Blaine tried to back out of the performance, but Kurt was right there to encourage him.

“This is a really dumb song. I should have gone with ‘When I Get You Alone’.”

Kurt snorted. “Seriously, Blaine? You want a group from a Christian school to sing that song?” Kurt had blushed the first time Blaine had played it for him. Sex toys were not something Kurt ever wanted to think about, much less sing about.

As soon as the opening harmonies sounded, Blaine’s show smile lit up the room as he broke into the lyrics.

 _Girl, you really got me goin'  
_ _You got me so I don't know what I'm doin'  
_ _Yeah, you really got me now  
_ _You got me so I can't sleep at night_

Kurt watched as Blaine spun around and danced across the store, picking out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on his head. When Blaine tossed them aside, Kurt picked them up and slipped them onto a table. If Blaine was going to get in trouble for busting a groove in his crush’s workplace, Kurt at least wanted to make sure he wasn’t arrested for shoplifting or breaking things in the process. Kurt noticed a couple of kids from the youth group watching the show from outside the store.

 _Yeah, you really got me now  
_ _You got me so I don't know what I'm doin', now  
_ _Oh yeah, you really got me now  
_ _You got me so I can't sleep at night_

Jeremiah put his hand over his ear, listening to his headset. Kurt leaned on a display, wistfully staring at Blaine as he danced around. Kurt could tell Jeremiah was uncomfortable, but Kurt was enjoying Blaine’s performance so much he didn’t understand what the problem was.

 _You really got me  
_ _You really got me  
_ _You really got me_

The song continued, with the Warblers dancing all over the store. On the last line, an angry-looking Jeremiah put both hands on the counter at the cash wrap while Blaine smiled and sang the last “You really got me”. Jeremiah turned and stalked away from the Warblers into the back. Kurt couldn’t tell if his breathlessness was from the singing and dancing or from watching Blaine’s body move so effortlessly around the store.

After the performance, Kurt and Blaine waited outside at the employee entrance on a conveniently placed bench. The conversation between Blaine and Jeremiah did not go well at all, and Kurt was there to support Blaine as he pondered all the ways he’d made it all up in his head. The kids he’d noticed earlier were standing across the alley, smoking cigarettes. Kurt wondered if their parents knew how their clean-cut Christian kids were polluting their bodies as well as the air with their habit.

Monday afternoon, at what was becoming their regular Lima Bean date, Kurt wanted desperately to tell Blaine how he felt, but he chickened out at the last minute. As he was buying their coffee, Kurt had a brilliant idea pop into his head.

When he got home that evening, he made a quick phone call to the manager of Breadstix, and the First Annual Kurt Hummel Lonely Hearts Club Concert was on. Now all he had to do was convince the Warblers to try again to sing outside of school.

The sharp rap of the gavel called the Warblers to order. Kurt raised his hand. “Excuse me, council, if I may?”

David, using his best authoritarian voice, said, “The council acknowledges Warbler Kurt Hummel. You have the floor, sir.”

“I am aware that last Friday’s attempt to woo a certain manager of the GAP didn’t go as planned.” Warblers started murmuring amongst themselves, frowning, and looking askance at Kurt, until Wes rapped the gavel on the table several times. “Far be it from me to criticize our incredible leaders, either the council or Warbler Blaine, but I wonder if we wouldn’t have more success at a different venue.”

Blaine spoke up, “What are you suggesting, Kurt?”

“I would like to propose a scheduled concert, only instead of a nursing home or shopping mall Christmas celebration, I suggest a Lonely Hearts concert at a local establishment on Valentine’s Day.”

The murmuring began again, but this time, there was less suspicion and more smiling and nodding of heads.

David inquired, “Which local establishment are we referring to?”

Kurt replied, “Breadstix, the Italian restaurant in Lima. I already arranged a Valentine’s Day concert with the management, and I would like to request the Warblers join me as guest artists.”

The rest of the Warblers, including Blaine, continued to smile and nod at each other and at Kurt while the council discussed Kurt’s suggestion amongst themselves at the table. Kurt bit his lower lip and raised his eyebrows as he glanced over at Blaine, who looked on encouragingly.  Wes banged the gavel and announced, “We have decided. The Warblers will perform at Breadstix on Valentine’s Day. Now to determine a set list.”

Kurt leaned over to Blaine and whispered, “Just not ‘When I Get You Alone’, okay?”

Blaine rolled his eyes and replied, “Like the Warblers would ever sing that one, anyway!” Kurt knew he’d embarrassed Blaine, though, because there was a tell-tale blush behind his ears.

* * *

 

The Lonely Hearts concert went off without a hitch and was absolutely lovely. Rachel and Mercedes showed up at Breadstix, and they each joined Kurt for one number. Finn couldn’t make it because he had come down with mono from his kissing booth, but nearly the entire McKinley Glee Club was there to support Kurt’s concert.  After the show, the Warblers all sat at a series of tables that had been pushed together, and Kurt found himself sitting across from Blaine.

“You know, Kurt, this was a great idea. What better way to celebrate Valentine’s Day than singing love songs?” Blaine asked.

Kurt replied, “Well, if you don’t have someone special of your own, I suppose it has to do.”

Blaine responded, “I doubt I’ll find anyone in Ohio. After that stupid performance with Jeremiah, anyone who might have possibly been interested is probably scared off, anyway.”

“Well, I know someone is out there for you, Blaine. Surely someone as handsome and charming as yourself will catch someone’s eye.” Kurt looked down at the silverware in front of him on the table and began moving them around like an illusionist’s shell game.

“Handsome and charming, huh?” Blaine’s tone was teasing, but gentle.

Kurt saw another opportunity to share how he felt, but he chickened out again. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hide his blush, so Blaine seemed to understand anyway.

“Hey, look at me.”

Kurt looked up and found himself staring into Blaine’s gorgeous, puppy dog eyes. “Kurt, I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend. As you and about 20 mortified shoppers saw last weekend, I am terrible at romance. I promise, I do not want to screw up our friendship.”

Kurt smiled. “So it will be like When Harry Met Sally then?”

Blaine grinned back. “Sounds good.”

“I get to be Meg Ryan.”

“Of course.”

Kurt stayed a bit later than his friends to settle things with the manager and make sure all the equipment was taken down properly and tucked into the back of his car. After everything was loaded, he went back in to thank the manager one last time. After he shook the manager’s hand, he grabbed his keys, checked his pockets for his phone, and went through the door, only to nearly bump into two kids he recognized from the youth group at his dad’s church.

“Watch it, fag!” the boy said.

His date looked Kurt up and down and shoved past Kurt.

She asked her date, “Has his dad been fired yet?”

“It’s only a matter of time, Katie. My dad says it’s in the bag.”

They went into the restaurant.

Kurt’s shoulders slumped as he unlocked his door, climbed in the car, and drove himself home alone.


	5. The Talk

Kurt called Mercedes a few days later. “Hey Mercedes. Thanks for coming to the Lonely Hearts Club night.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?  I mean, we did just decide at that sleepover that we were going to stay single and strong together, so I had to be there!”

“Yeah. Thanks again.” Kurt’s voice dropped low and quiet. “I really mean it.”

“Kurt--” Mercedes hesitated. “Is there something else going on?”

“What makes you say that?” Kurt put some effort into sounding bright and cheerful, but instead it came out forced and awkward.

“I don’t know exactly, just something in your voice. It seems like this is hitting you harder than it should.” Mercedes paused for a few seconds. “And last night, you sat there with Blaine for so long, but you didn’t come over and sit with us. Why not?”

Kurt drew in a long breath. “You can read me like a book, can’t you.”

“We’ve been friends since we were kids. Tell me, boy. What’s up?”

“My dad’s going to lose his job.”

“WHAT?” Kurt pulled the phone away from his ear. “What do you mean he’s going to lose his job? He’s one of the best pastors I’ve ever met!”

Kurt sighed and put the phone back over his ear. “He pissed off the wrong deacon and they are having a meeting this Sunday to vote him out because of me.”

“Oh, Kurt, I’m so sorry.” Mercedes sounded close to tears. “I wonder if there is anything my dad can do.”

“I doubt it,” Kurt replied. “It sounds like each church gets to make their own decision about stuff like this. There is no one to appeal it to.”

“Well, I’ll be praying that it goes in your dad’s favor.” Mercedes said emphatically.

“Please don’t bother. It’s not like God listens to anything we say, anyway.”

Mercedes sighed. “I love you, Kurt, you know that, right?”

“Love you too, ‘Cedes. I love you, too.”

* * *

 

Finn finally got healthy enough to go back to school right around the time that the Warblers were working on the setlist for regionals. Kurt and Finn decided they weren’t going to share secrets about each other's’ setlists, but Finn had a really hard time keeping quiet about everything that was going on in class. When he started sharing about the sex education unit they were doing in Glee Club, Kurt had to set his knife and fork down next to his dinner plate and swallow hard to avoid the bile rising up in his throat.

His next Monday visit to the Lima Bean with Blaine after that conversation, he remembered it as he was waiting for Blaine to sit down with their drinks and he felt his face heat up. Blaine noticed as soon as he turned from the counter.

“What’s up? Did I miss something?”

Kurt took a deep breath and sighed. “Not really. Just reliving the most awkward dinner conversation ever.”

“Do tell.”

Kurt grimaced. “No thanks. That would just make this the most awkward coffee date conversation ever.”

Blaine smiled with his eyes. “Coffee date, huh? Something I should know about?”

Kurt blushed again. _At this rate, I’m going to have to match my outfits to my face._ “Ugh, Blaine. You know what I meant.”

“Well, Kurt, there is only one topic I can think of that would make you blush like that. S-E-X”

“Blaine!” Kurt yelped.

Blaine started giggling. “What? It’s not that hard to say, Kurt. Sex. Try it!”

Kurt’s eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead. “I will not.”

Blaine sighed, still smiling. “What about sex has you so worked up.” He sat there for a moment and then continued, “Oh, I’m so sorry! That is not what I meant!”

Kurt cracked a smile. “No, that’s okay. I knew what you meant.” He sat up straighter and squared his shoulders. “Finn was gushing about their lesson in Glee Club this week. It’s all about … _that.”_

“Wait, what? They’re having sex in Glee Club?” Blaine was grinning from ear to ear.

Kurt harrumphed. “That is not at all what I said and you know it! I swear, Blaine Anderson, you are asking for it!”

“For what?”  Blaine laughed. “Seriously, Kurt. What do you mean? Why are they talking about sex in Glee Club?”

Kurt gulped. “I guess Mr. Schuester thinks they need to? I didn’t catch the why so much as the what.”

Blaine wondered aloud, “What if that’s inside intel on regionals, this year? What if they are looking for something more sexy? We need to call an emergency meeting of the Warbler Council.”

Kurt attempted to interrupt him. “W-w-w-wait. Blaine, no! What if we’re wrong?”

“How are we wrong? You told me Finn said it himself!”

“B-b-but I wasn’t _supposed_ to tell you anything! Please, Blaine, don’t do this!”

“Kurt, don’t you see? Warblers need to do something sexified.”

Kurt muttered under his breath, "Oh My God, Finn's going to kill me. And if he doesn't, this just might."

* * *

 

That evening, Carole and Finn were both home for dinner with Kurt and Burt. It seemed to be a rare thing to get everyone around the table at once, so Kurt decided to go all out and prepare a vegetarian lasagna with skim cheese and garlic bread. Of course, he included a giant salad with fresh grape tomatoes, diced peppers, shredded carrots, sliced cucumbers, and light Italian dressing to have before the main course so his dad wouldn’t have a lot of room for the heavier food anyway. No matter how many times everyone praised the Lord for Burt’s health, Kurt couldn’t get rid of the niggling worry that his dad would all of a sudden keel over if he ate a cheeseburger.

When they all sat down to eat together, Burt, Carole, and Finn all bowed their heads for prayer. Kurt stayed silent out of respect for his dad, but didn’t join in the prayer, nor did he say _amen_ at the end.

Finn leaned over and whispered loudly, “Hey Kurt, what gives? You aren’t praying with us anymore?”

“Leave him alone, Finn,” said Burt. “It’s not up to you to police his behavior.”

Finn gulped. “Sorry, Kurt.”

“It’s fine.” Kurt sighed and began to serve salad to everyone.

“So, Burt, what’s new with you at the church?” Finn asked.

“Nothing, really,” replied Burt. “How are things at school?”

Kurt interjected, “Has the Deacon board dropped their vendetta against you, then, Dad?”

Finn jerked his head up from his plate, dropped his silverware, and looked at Kurt. He asked with a mouthful of salad, “What do you mean, vendetta?”

Carole glanced sharply at Kurt and then patted Finn’s hand where it was hanging in mid-air over his salad plate. “Don’t worry about it, Finn. Burt and I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. In fact,” she continued, moving her eyes to glare at Burt, “We had said we weren’t even going to mention it to you boys at all.”

Burt huffed. “He saw the letter, Carole. I was upset. He can read me like a book.”

Kurt stated sharply, “Don’t I deserve to know when my dad is going to lose his job because of my sexuality?”

“Wait, what? Burt’s getting fired?” Finn asked.

Burt and Carole started talking over each other.

“It’s not like-”

“I’m not gonna-”

Kurt interrupted them both. “Finn, your deranged football friends and their families seem to think I should be rotting in Hell, and since Dad preached otherwise, they want to fire him.”

“Kurt--” Burt said sharply. “That’s enough.”

“Wait though,” interjected Finn. “What do you mean my friends? High school kids aren’t part of that committee, are they?”

“Like it matters. They are just as bigoted and narrow-minded as their parents taught them to be.” Kurt put his utensils down and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve lost my appetite.” He walked away from the table and went to his room for the night.

Finn watched him go, then looked down at his almost-empty plate. “Can I have some more lasagna?”

Later that evening, Kurt was singing[ “Green Finch and Linnet Bird”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tox_UDjLRCc) from _Sweeney Todd_ to Pavarotti. He thought maybe part way through the second verse that he heard a quiet knock on his door, but he ignored it in favor of finishing the song.

_My cage has many rooms, damask and dark  
_ _Nothing there sings, not even a lark  
_ _Larks never will, you know, when they're captive  
_ _Teach me to be more adaptive, ah_

_Green finch, and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird  
_ _Teach me how to sing  
_ _If I cannot fly  
_ _Let me sing_

* * *

 

At school the following morning, Blaine called the emergency meeting of the Warblers to warn them about the sexy lessons happening at McKinley. “My fellow Warblers, we must do something to counter their charge. We cannot let them be the only team at regionals that uses sex appeal to tip the judges in their favor.”

The boys in the room muttered to each other. Wes pounded the gavel, trying to regain control of the team. “Order, gentlemen. Order,” he demanded. “ _Order!”_ Wes hammered the gavel directly on the tabletop. The sound echoed loudly enough that most of the boys turned to face the council table again.

“Thank you, gentleman. Now, to address Warbler Blaine’s concerns, does anyone have any thoughts?”

Several Warblers started to murmur again, and a couple raised their hands. Kurt looked down at the hardwood beneath his feet.

“Warbler Alex, you have the floor.”

Alex stood up at attention. “Well, I think if the New Directions are playing on worldly pleasures in the competition, we have no choice but to fight fire with fire.”

Several Warblers started shouting, “Hear, hear!”

Wes rapped the gavel three more times. All the boys turned their attention to the table. Kurt’s shoulders slumped.

Wes called on another Warbler, who echoed the sentiments of Blaine and Alex, with many more voices piping up in agreement.

“So, do we have a motion to add a sexy song to our set list?” asked David.

“So moved.” Several Warblers stood at once.

“Seconded,” added Blaine.

Finally, Kurt couldn’t take it anymore. “Esteemed council, may I speak?”

“The council acknowledges Warbler Kurt Hummel.”

“Fellow Warblers, we do not actually know if the New Directions will actually perform any of the songs they are rehearsing this week.” Kurt took several slow steps around the back of the group. “When I attended McKinley, we didn’t prepare our competition setlist until the week before the competition, if we were lucky. Once, last year, we had to completely redesign our setlist the day of the competition in the green room!” Kurt whirled around to face the council table. “Truthfully, we represent a Christian school. Would the chancellor even allow us to sing a suggestive song?

“Realistically, we need to perform a number that puts our best foot forward. I really thinking a bunch of teenage boys singing about- about that- would only aggravate the judges, play into stereotypes, and put us in a hole that we could never get out of.

“Moreover, shouldn’t the entire team be taken into consideration, rather than just the loudest voices?”

Wes cocked his head to one side, eyes questioning. “What do you mean?”

Kurt replied, right hand on his hip, “I, for one, disagree that it is necessary to sing suggestive songs. There are plenty more songs out there that can show off the amazing talent in this group without resorting to flinging our hormones around the stage.”

“Thank you, Warbler Kurt, for your opinion. I believe we have a motion on the floor.”

Kurt sat down primly back on the edge of his seat.

“All in favor of Warbler Blaine’s proposal to add a more suggestive song to our repertoire, say aye.”

A chorus of ayes filled the air.

“All opposed?”

Kurt raised his hand. His was the only one in the air.

“Decided. We will now take song suggestions.”

The group debated the various merits of everything from Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax” to Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” to Boyz to Men’s “I’ll Make Love to You”, before they settled on Neon Trees’ “Animal”. Thad offered to ask his girlfriend to set up a group from Crawford Country Day, and the performance was set.

After they sang, Kurt and Blaine went back to his house, and Kurt suffered through Blaine trying to demonstrate how to be sexy. Kurt exploded and yelled, “Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to be sexy? I’ve spent my whole life hearing that sex is wrong, and sex between two men is an abomination. There is nothing sexy about being an abomination, Blaine!”

“Woah, woah. Kurt, what do you actually know about sex?” demanded Blaine.

“A man puts his sperm in a woman so they can have a baby. Voila. Sex,” Kurt shot back.

Blaine’s eyebrows went up his forehead in perfect triangles. “Hey, calm down a little. I get that you’re uncomfortable.”

Kurt snorted.

“But seriously, Kurt, this is important. Sex doesn’t have to be this big scary thing. Can I share some of my research with you? What have you found on your own?”

Kurt huffed out a laugh. “Research? Found on my own? Blaine, my dad put the strongest anti-porn internet filter he could find on our wi-fi. I can’t even google ‘basting’ without it flagging it. All I wanted to know was if I was sewing something correctly, Blaine, but apparently “American Family Online” has that flagged.”

“Well I can tell you what I know, then. Let’s have a conversation about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I like romance. I don’t need any graphic details.”

“Kurt, you’re going to have to learn about it someday.” Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed, concern written all over his face.

Kurt replied in a clipped voice, once again holding barely back tears in Blaine’s presence. “Today is not that day. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

On his way out of town, heading back towards Westerville, Blaine decided to swing by the church and see if he could catch Kurt’s father before he left work. Blaine noticed Burt’s truck in the parking lot, so he parked his car and headed up the sidewalk. The front door of the church was unlocked, so Blaine slipped in and followed the signs to the pastor’s office.

Blaine knocked on the dark, wooden door with Burt’s nameplate on it.

“Yeah? Come in!” Burt called.

“Pastor Hummel, sir?” Blaine stepped in through the door. “Do you have a minute, sir?”

“Sure, what’s up? Do you need some spiritual advice?” Burt said with an open smile, sitting behind a large, modern, dark-walnut, executive-style desk. Blaine thought his dad would be thoroughly impressed by the gorgeous piece of furniture.

Blaine chuckled and shook his head slightly. “No, sir, but thank you. I am actually here to talk to you about Kurt.”

Burt stood up immediately and came out from behind the giant desk. “Is he okay? What’s wrong?”

“Have you ever-- talked to him-- about sex?” Blaine didn’t actually look Burt in the eye while he was saying the sentence, but he managed to get the whole sentence out in the middle of a Baptist church without getting struck by lightning.

Burt walked toward him, looking quizzical. “Are you gay, or straight, or what?” he asked.

Blaine replied with a sincere smile. “I’m definitely gay.”

“Okay. That’s good. Kurt needs friends like you in his life, to talk to.”

Blaine spoke up, “But that’s my point, sir. I tried talking to him, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He basically puts his fingers in his ears and starts singing.”

Burt turned with a smile, tugging his tie straight down from the bottom. “Well, when he’s ready, he’ll listen.”

“That’s just it, sir. I’m worried it will be too late. I don’t want him to move off to college not knowing anything! There is no sex education at Dalton, sir.” Blaine worked to catch Burt’s eye as Burt looked down and fidgeted with a pencil on the desk. “I’m sure you know that, as a Christian school, everything in health class is abstinence-only.”

Burt looked up sharply, then motioned for Blaine to sit down on the leather couch next to the wall opposite his desk.

Blaine sat down, then continued, “Kurt is the kindest, most moral, compassionate person I’ve ever met.”

Burt interjected, “He gets that from his mother.” His eyes were positively venomous at this point.

Blaine continued, hoping he wasn’t digging a hole he would never climb out of. “You have an amazing opportunity, sir. I know that things haven’t always been easy between you and Kurt. You could really solidify your relationship with him by not only telling him you care, but showing him as well.”

Burt relaxed a bit, sitting down on the edge of the leather wingback chair in the corner. Turning his torso to face Blaine, he asked, “Has your father ever talked to you about this stuff?”

Blaine replied, “No. I had to look it all up for myself, but you’ve barred Kurt from having any chance of exploring on his own on the internet at home. Plus,  I’m betting that this church isn’t teaching about what sex is like for gay kids, either!”

Burt nodded his head. “Go on.”

“One day, Kurt will be at a party, having a few drinks with people, and some guy is going to approach him. They will start fooling around, and Kurt won’t know the first thing about using protection, STDs, or safe sex. And with all due respect, sir, it will be your fault.”

Burt looked down at his hands. “Is that all?”

Blaine stood up and started backing up toward the door. “I-- I-- I’m sorry if I’m overstepping,” he said, as he went.

Burt looked up at him, exhaustion all over his face. “You are.”

Blaine turned abruptly and walked out of the room. Burt hung his head and sighed.

That evening, after he got in his car, Burt pulled up the google app on his phone and made a quick stop at the free clinic to pick up some pamphlets.  He called Carole at work and asked her to take Finn out to dinner, and proceeded to psych himself up to head home and talk to his son about sex.

When Burt walked through the door that evening, Kurt was already in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Burt tossed the pamphlets on the counter next to Kurt and stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, waiting for Kurt’s reaction.

“What’s all this?” asked Kurt, glancing over the cover of the top pamphlet.

“These are some pamphlets I picked up from the free clinic on my way home from work tonight.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “You went to the free clinic? Dad, aren’t you already in enough danger of losing your job?”

Burt reassured him. “Don’t you worry about that. I think these will be helpful to our conversation tonight. It is time you and I had ‘the talk’.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.” Burt allowed his voice to get a bit louder as he talked, hoping to sound reassuring, but Kurt stuck his fingers in his ears and started singing, just like he had last time. Instead of laughing, Burt began speaking even louder. “Hey, you think this is easy for me? I’m not sure I want to do this any more than you do.”

Burt grabbed the pamphlets off the counter, took Kurt by the shoulders and walked him towards the kitchen table. “We are going to get through this together, and we will both be better men because of it.”

Burt tossed the pamphlets onto the table. “Most of the mechanics you need to know are covered in the pamphlets.”

Kurt’s face went bright red, and he turned his head away from where Burt was looking at him.

Burt continued bravely on. “I want you to read them, and then I want you to come talk to me about it.”

“I don’t think--”

“Kurt, look at me.” Kurt turned his head back towards his father. “Can you do that, son? Will you read them?”

Kurt sighed and said quietly, “Okay. Fine. If you insist.”

Burt replied seriously, “I do insist.”

“Okay, fine. Thank you.” Kurt stood up, taking the pamphlets in his hand.

“Oh no you don’t. Sit yourself back down. We’ve only just started.”

Kurt sat down on the very edge of his seat, looking much like a startled animal, ready to take flight at a moment’s notice.

“For most teenage boys, sex is something that is constantly on your mind. Aw heck, let’s be real. For most guys in general,” Burt said. “Men are known for thinking with the wrong head, trying to feel physical pleasure, out to have fun, or have a ‘good time’. We’re not usually thinking about how it makes us feel on the inside, or how our wives feel about it.”

Kurt cocked his head to the side. “Women are different?”

“Only because they get that it’s about something more. There is a vulnerability, a connection, that they seem to understand innately. You know, when you’re intimate with somebody in that way, you’re exposing yourself in a way that is scary. God designed it that way. He made is so we desire to be connected on a soul level to another person. Women understand that. Men fear it.”

At this point, Kurt locked eyes with his dad. “Men are afraid of sex?”

“Not sex, per se, but the intimacy that is involved with it, for sure.” Burt laid his hands down flat on the table and leaned forward, intently. “ I can’t tell you how many couples I have counseled in my office where the wife is longing for intimacy, but the man is only about fulfilling his physical needs.”

“But that won’t happen to me, Dad.”

“No, it’s gonna be worse, son. First of all, there is no marriage connection. No bond that says we are in this together forever.”

Kurt pulled back in his chair, stiffening his shoulders. “Like that’s our fault?”

“Of course it’s not your fault, but the fact is, it is the reality that exists right now. But let’s say that changes before you find someone, or you end up in Boston doing theater and get married there. You still have the issue that it’s two guys, two people who think sex is just sex, and miss out on the intimacy connection.” Burt paused to take a breath and sat back in his chair a little.

Kurt interjected, “What if I don’t want to wait until I can get married, Dad? What if I don’t think that’s as important as you do?”

Burt sighed. “Well, from what I understand, you are going to find sex fairly easy to come by, and believe me, once you start doing this stuff, you’re not going to want to stop. You just gotta know that it means something. It’s doing something.” Burt swallowed hard. “To you. To your heart. To your soul. To your self esteem. Even though it just feels like you’re just having fun.”

Kurt said, in all seriousness, “So you’re saying I shouldn’t have sex.”

Burt replied, equally seriously, “I think it’s an excellent gift for your wedding night, or on your 30th birthday if you’re still single.”

They paused a moment to look at each other, Kurt’s forehead furrowed and his lips tight.

Burt continued, “Kurt, when you’re ready, I want you to be able to do everything. But when you are ready, use it as a way to connect to another person. Don’t throw yourself around like you don’t matter.” Burt reached out to take Kurt’s hands in his own. “Because you matter, Kurt. You matter to me. You matter to God.”

There was another long pause while they sat there looking at each other. Kurt finally broke the silence. “Is that it?”

Burt nodded. “That’s it, for now. But I meant what I said. I want you to feel free to talk to me about any of this, anytime.  Can I make you some toast?”

Kurt replied, “Sure. I think I’d like to take it to my room while I read through my new pamphlets.”

Kurt picked up the pamphlets from the table and tapped them into a neat stack. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Dad.”

Burt nodded and replied wryly, “You’re welcome.”

The next morning, Burt went into his office and began preparing his sermon for the week. He had never felt so nervous or so much pressure to get something exactly right, not even his first time in the pulpit. He spent hours staring at the blank computer screen before him, starting to type then deleting his words even faster than he could type them.

He eventually got up and began walking through the church, checking out the sunday school rooms, whose walls were filled with projects made by little hands, colored with care and cut at odd angles. They were no less beautiful for their imperfections, when out of control crayons careened out of the lines, or scissors snipped too close or too far away from the lines they were meant to cut. As he looked at all the drawings, each room getting progressively closer to realism as he walked up through the age groups, he had a sudden realization. He practically ran back to his office and watched the words flow from his fingertips to the screen without pausing.

That afternoon, he bundled up in his warm jacket and gloves, put his boots on, and hiked through the remaining snow out to the sign by the road in order to put up the letters of a new message.

            “You matter to God. You matter to us.”


	6. Decisions

That Sunday, the sanctuary was full to standing room only, and the ushers added seats in the lobby and in the fellowship hall, where they piped the service in through the AV system. They set up screens in the front of the hall so everyone could see. Everyone had heard about the church meeting scheduled for after the service, where Pastor Burt’s fate as their leader would be determined.

Burt stood in front of the congregation and boldly declared, “People of God, I am here to tell you, I have been wrong. I have stood before you and said things that were wrong in the eyes of God because I was looking for the favor of man.”

The gathered crowd sat silently, patiently waiting for Burt to finish apologizing.

“You see, church, I have spent a lot of years up here telling you that certain things were important, things like how much money you give to the church, how much ‘blessing’ you have received from the Lord, or whether or not you pray every day, study the bible each night, or follow all the rules.

“I have come to realize over the past few years, but even moreso the past few weeks, that none of that matters to God at all. Do you know what matters to God, church? Do you? Let me tell you, from scripture, what God thinks is most important. Take out your Bibles and open to the book of John, Chapter 4.”

The congregation unzipped their bible covers and rustled the pages as they searched for the correct page.

Burt watched and waited for the majority of them to be ready to listen. He began to read the story of the Samaritan Woman, a woman who had been sexually promiscuous and lived on the very edge of society, an outcast from her own community in Samaria, but also an enemy of the Jews by virtue of where she had been born.

After finishing the story, he launched back into his point for the day. “You see church, Jesus didn’t avoid the hard luck cases, even when their own behavior had brought them to the point of destitution. He didn’t sit and pass judgement on this woman because of the way she had lived her life, or who she was in love with.

“As a matter of fact, he promised her a new kind of life. She was so changed and transformed by his grace that she ran into town to tell everyone who hated her about him, so they could be changed as well. And what was it that changed her?

“It wasn’t anger, or judgment, or stern words. It was love. It was concern for her wellbeing. It was the fact that he knew her situation inside and out, and he showed love to her anyway.

“I am here to declare that the only thing that matters to God is love. We must show his love to everyone who darkens our door, everyone for whom we might otherwise feel contempt, or fear, or disgust. God asks us to trust him, to show compassion and humility, and to serve the poor generously.

“I will not apologize for loving my son. I will not apologize for saying my son matters to God. I will not apologize for showing God’s love to other gay men, lesbians, or queer people of any stripe. I will show God’s love to _all_ people, regardless of what you or anyone else says, because I answer only to Him.

“Thank you.”

Burt walked off the stage, leaving the church in stunned silence.

As he sat in the church office, waiting for the verdict from the all-church meeting after the service, Burt found himself praying. “Lord God, if you love my son at all, if you show him any amount of compassion, then please, let my words get through to these people.”

Carole knocked on the door of the office, interrupting his time of prayer. “Burt? Can you come back to the sanctuary, please?”

Burt looked up. “Already? That was fast.”

Carole smiled wanly. “I don’t know what that means. Let’s go find out.”

As they walked hand-in-hand back into the sanctuary, Burt was surprised to see both Finn and Kurt standing by the rear door. Kurt hadn’t attended a Sunday service in months. They looked over the top of the crowd as Burt and Carole walked in from the side door. The deacon board was all sitting at the front of the church along the front of the pulpit.

Burt walked up the steps and took his place behind the lectern, next to Aaron Brown, the chairman of the board.

Aaron took a microphone from it’s stand and made the announcement. “Pastor Burt, church, it is to my great joy and utmost glee to tell you all that Pastor Burt Hummel will remain the leader of this church. In an overwhelming landslide majority, the congregation has voted to retain you as pastor. At the same time, I have accepted the resignation of the following deacons on the board: Paul Karofsky, James Adams, Bryan Ryan, Quentin Jackson, and Dick Harris.”

Carole burst into tears as Burt shook hands with the chairman. He then turned and caught Carole as she launched herself into a hug. He looked over her shoulder to see Kurt and Finn, still at the back in the center of the aisle, as the congregation gave the announcement a standing ovation. Tears welled up in Burt’s eyes as he saw the amazed look on Kurt’s face as members of the congregation smiled at him, and a couple even walked over to him and Finn to wrap them in bear hugs as well.

* * *

 

“Hey Kurt!” Blaine always answered the phone happily, making Kurt smile.

“Hi Blaine,” replied Kurt, relaxing back on his bed with his phone to his ear. “How’s it going?”

“I’m feeling great! Services this morning were really fun. The youth choir got to sing, and I got the solo, so I’m kind of flying high.” Blaine was exuberant. Kurt could hear his grin through the phone.

“When don’t you get the solo, huh?” Kurt asked.

Blaine laughed. “There is that. Oh well, what can I do for you?”

“Could you meet me for coffee sometime this afternoon?” Kurt asked, his voice light and bright. “I want to tell you about what happened at church this morning, but I think it would be better in person.”

“Well, that sounds intriguing. What time?”

Kurt looked at the clock on his bedside table. “I was thinking I would take a quick nap. We had a celebratory lunch at Breadstix, and now I’m in a bit of a food coma.”

“Well, it takes me awhile to get out there, so how about I clean up and change, and I’ll be there in an hour and a half? Is that enough time?” Blaine asked.

“Perfect. See you then!” Kurt hung up the phone and set it down next to his alarm clock. He set the alarm to wake him up in 45 minutes just in case. He grinned as he relaxed further into his pillows and closed his eyes.

When Kurt arrived at the Lima Bean, he scanned the room and saw Blaine sitting at an out-of-the-way table with two cups and a plate of biscotti in front of him. He glanced up as Kurt entered the room and smiled as Kurt approached the table.

“Hey Blaine! What’s this for?” Kurt asked, gesturing at the table.

“I thought it would be nice to buy you a cup of coffee on this gorgeous winter afternoon.”

Kurt slipped out of his coat and slung it and his scarf over the back of a chair, then sat down  and smiled at Blaine, eyes sparkling.

“So Kurt, what happened at church this morning that has you so happy and excited that you had, and I quote, ‘a celebratory lunch at Breadstix’ and then called me up for a Sunday afternoon coffee date?” asked Blaine.

Kurt’s grin got even wider. “You will never guess!”

Blaine chuckled. “Should I even try?”

Kurt glanced around the room, then lowered his voice and said, “David Karofsky’s family left the church, and my dad gets to keep his job!”

Blaine’s head pulled back a few inches, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Was that a concern? That your Dad might lose his job?”

Kurt sighed happily. “It was! But it isn’t anymore. And now Dave’s dad resigned from the board, and they’re gone!”

“Why didn’t you tell me your dad’s job was in jeopardy? No wonder you were distracted all week!” Blaine asked ruefully. “I could have sent you inspirational text messages or something!”

“What could you have done, Blaine? Really,” said Kurt, “there was nothing anyone could have done. The meeting was called; the vote was scheduled.”

“I could have been there for you, or supported you more. I don’t know, something!”

“You’re very sweet, but let’s just celebrate and enjoy the fact that I will never have to have his hideous face or his grotesque breath anywhere near mine again.” Kurt hopped up and down in his seat. “Life is good, Blaine Anderson, life is good!”

Blaine looked at Kurt quizzically, and then said curiously, “Wait, did you just say you’ve had his breath near yours?”

Kurt stopped moving. He raised one eyebrow and spoke very carefully. “That’s not what I meant.”

Blaine drew his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. “Then why do you look so scared all of a sudden?”

Kurt let out a pseudo-laugh and looked over Blaine’s left shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grabbed the biscotti nearest him on the plate and began crumbling it to pieces.

“Kurt, what aren’t you telling me?”

Kurt stood up. Blaine grabbed his hand.

“Kurt, you’re really worrying me, now. What’s going on?” Blaine clung tightly to Kurt’s hand. “Sit down. Let’s just have our coffee.”

Kurt sat back down, but stayed very close to the edge of his seat. He sipped his coffee primly. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”

“Well let’s get in my car then, because you obviously have something to talk about.”

Blaine stood up and grabbed Kurt’s coat, holding it out to help Kurt put it on. Then he slipped into his own jacket, grabbed the biscotti plate, and took his cup in the other hand. He walked to the bussing station, set the plate down, and picked up the remaining cookies. “Let’s hit the road.”

Blaine opened the passenger door of his car, helped Kurt in by holding his drink until his safety belt was fastened, then walked around to the driver’s door to get in. He set the cookies on the dashboard, then scrambled into the driver’s seat. “So where should we go?”

Kurt shrugged. “Nowhere, I guess. Here is fine.”

Blaine sighed. “Kurt, please. Talk to me. Why are you being so cagey about this?”

“Because the guy who threatened to kill me also tried to kiss me, Blaine. And talking about it where anyone could hear might get back to him.”

“Wait,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt wide-eyed. “Karofsky tried to kiss you?”

“Tried and succeeded. In the church bathroom during youth group. That was the last time I ever went to church until this morning,” replied Kurt.

“Oh my word, Kurt,” Blaine burst out. “I didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell someone?”

Kurt scoffed. “Perhaps because I didn’t want to die?!”

Blaine turned and  stared over the dashboard at the traffic driving by on the main road. “I wouldn’t have let that happen, though, Kurt. I would have--”

Kurt turned his torso in the seat so he could face Blaine as much as possible. “Look, Blaine.” Kurt reached out to take Blaine’s free hand in his own. “You couldn’t have done anything. If you’d confronted him, he would have squashed you like a bug. It’s over now. He’s done at church. His family left. He can’t hurt me there, not anymore, and I’m safe at Dalton.” Kurt took a deep breath through his nose and let out a slow sigh. “I made it, Blaine. I made it, and I’m damn proud of it.”

Blaine smiled timidly. “I think I’m proud of you, too, Kurt.”

* * *

 

A week or so after that amazing Sunday, Kurt was working with some of the other Warblers in the commons area at Dalton. Blaine came in, threw some papers around, and sang Maroon Five’s “Misery” while Kurt and the Warblers sang along like Gladys Knight’s Pips. When Blaine asked him what he thought, Kurt replied, “Just like at church, it’s Blaine Anderson, soloist, every time.”

That evening, while working through his nighttime routine, he heard a thunk from Pavarotti’s cage. Kurt spent the next hour alternating between tears and sorting through his closet, looking for the perfect mourning outfit that wouldn’t get him in trouble at school, but would still get his point across: Kurt Hummel was devastated at the loss of his first pet and inspirational friend.

Kurt decided to sing a song in honor of the dearly departed warbler, and so through tears, he crooned “Blackbird”, accompanied by a cassette tape he’d made from his mother’s collection of instrumental guitar renderings of Beatles’ classic melodies. Kurt was delighted when the Warblers joined in the song. His soul rejoiced to be heard and acknowledged by so many of his friends.

Kurt was even more delighted when Blaine took his words to heart and offered up a dual lead for one of their regionals songs in the Warbler’s rehearsal the next day.

After school that afternoon, Kurt set up his bedazzling kit on one of the tables in the commons. There was something cathartic about unlatching the case, opening up all the containers, and spreading the beads and baubles all over the smooth, polished surface of the table. He pulled a small, black, wooden box out of the cloth bag he’d brought from home. He took out the Tacky Glue and began planning out the design he wanted to create on the casket he was making for his dear, departed bird.

Once he’d decided on a pattern, he set to work gluing the decorations to the box. Partway through the second row, Blaine came into the room asking, “What’s that?”

Kurt explained, and then Blaine invited him to practice the perfect song for their duet, “Beautiful Love”, by the Afters.

Kurt set his glue bottle aside, and they practiced singing. The original band had some lovely harmonies, so it took quite a long time to work out who would take each line and who would sing what part. Each time they got to the chorus, Blaine would stare intently into Kurt’s eyes while he sang:

_What a beautiful smile  
_ _Can I stay for awhile?  
_ _On this beautiful night  
_ _We'll make everything right  
_ _My beautiful love_

After the third time through the song, by the dozenth chorus, Kurt finally sat down and looked up at Blaine. “This is a fun song, Blaine, but it isn’t like you. You’re usually so top 40.”

Blaine chuckled. “True, but I wanted to make sure that since we were representing a Christian school, that we put forward a Christian witness, too.”

“This is a Christian song? That surprises me.”

“The Afters is a Christian band, but they have a lot of crossover appeal. I thought this was a good blend of energy and emotion. We should knock those judges’ socks off!”

Kurt smiled, and then looked down at the mess on the table. “Blaine, why did you pick me to sing this song with?” Kurt angled his eyes back up towards Blaine without moving his head too far, glancing at Blaine out of the corner of his eyes, through his eyelashes.

Blaine’s eyes widened slightly, and then closed as he inhaled deeply. “Kurt, I--” A knock came on the door frame, where Blaine had left the door open behind him.

“Kurt, Blaine?” David and Wes walked in. “Are we interrupting anything?”

Kurt looked over at them and smiled. “Not really, we were just taking a break from rehearsing our duet.”

“Excellent. Blaine, I think we’ve arranged it appropriately with six-part harmony, but I’d like to run the guitar intro by you.” Blaine stood up while David was talking, and Wes pulled out their notebook and handed it to him.

David continued, “If we pass the higher guitar line around between the tenor parts, they should be able to do it without Kurt’s voice and no one will get fatigued.”

Wes interjected, “But I thought it might sound better to have just one voice singing it, so the other guys can make the chords.”

“Wes, I told you, it would fatigue anyone who isn’t Kurt. Since Kurt is singing lead, we will have to pass it around.”

Blaine looked back at Kurt, who was watching the argument with a fond smile on his face. He turned back to Wes and David and said, “Guys, what do you need me for?”

David looked exasperated. “Isn’t it obvious? You have to settle this. Is there anyone else besides Kurt who can do the whole line?”

Blaine said, “Anyone else will have to use their falsetto, but I bet Trent could sustain his falsetto that long.”

Kurt said, “Let me text him. He can come down and run it with us!”

It took Trent less than five minutes to get to the room, and Blaine was correct. They ran the song twice with just the five of them, and Trent called Thad and John to come over as well. All six parts sounded wonderful together, and when it was time for Kurt to head back home, he had a beautiful song in his heart and beautiful eyes singing soulfully on his mind.

That night, he called Mercedes again, this time to tell her the good news.

“Mercedes, my dad won! He preached the most amazing sermon about how love is love and love is what matters most to God and he loves me Mercedes and he’s so happy and I’m so happy and he gets to keep his job!”

“Woah, slow down!” Mercedes said, laughing. “What was all that? Did you even take a breath in there?”

Kurt took a deep breath, and started again. “My dad preached what I thought was going to be his last sermon on Sunday. It was all about love, and that God said love was the most important thing. Then he said he wouldn’t apologize to anyone for loving me, or for saying God loves me.”

“Was that before or after the vote?” asked Mercedes.

“Before. The special meeting was after the services, and I swear, Mercedes, everyone was there. _Everyone._ I have never seen that church so full, even on Christmas and Easter. I thought for sure he was done for.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, after he finished his sermon, he didn’t even stay on stage. He took off and went back to his office. The chairman of the deacon board read the motion before the church, then they passed out the ballots and voted. Quick as that.”

“And your dad won?”

“He won!”

Mercedes smiled. “I’m so glad for you, Kurt. So very glad.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

* * *

 

The following weekend, standing backstage at regionals, Kurt watched Aural Intensity make idiots of themselves singing a Christian song and felt bile start to rise up the back of his throat. Blaine came up behind him and gave him a brief shoulder rub, so Kurt turned and asked him, “Are we idiots for singing a Christian song, too? Look at them, they’re ridiculous!”

Blaine laughed and asked, “Kurt are you nervous?”

Kurt gulped down his nausea. “Has anyone ever literally died on stage?

“Please, don’t judge me. The last time I sang a solo in front of an audience was my dad’s wedding, but before that, it was in church. I was ridiculed for years because of it. Now I’m going to go out there and sing a Christian love song to a cute boy onstage in front of a panel of judges that includes a nun, a Tea Partier, and a conservative news broadcaster. How do I know I won’t get smited mid-verse?”

Blaine walked around beside Kurt, smirking.

“Okay, you can judge me.”

“You think I’m cute? I think you’re adorable. And the only people that are going to die are the people in that audience, because you and I are gonna kill this thing.”

Kurt blushed. “You think I’m adorable?”

Blaine grabbed Kurt by the hand and pulled him to the secluded scene shop behind the stage. “Kurt, there is a moment when God says to you, ‘There he is, the one you’ve been looking for forever. Watching you do Blackbird this week, that was the moment for me, about you.”

All the external noise and hustle and bustle of backstage faded away in the distance as Kurt’s heart pounded in his ears. He could barely believe what he was hearing. He raised one eyebrow in a question, but Blaine continued.

“You asked me why I wanted to sing this song with you. You move me, Kurt. I chose this song because I want you to be My Beautiful Love. Singing it with you was just an excuse to spend more time with you.”

Kurt sucked in a breath, eyes opened wide. He was stunned to see Blaine leaning forward towards him. When their lips met, it was as if the world came into alignment. All of a sudden, the world went from shades of grey to living color. Kurt’s eyes closed as he leaned into the kiss, tipping his head to the side to get air as he kissed Blaine as if his life depended on it.

Blaine’s soft, warm lips were nothing like anything he’d ever felt before. They fit his mouth as if they were designed to be there, melding together with a sweet flavor Kurt didn’t ever want to get enough of. Kurt brought his hand up to Blaine’s jawline, resting his thumb along Blaine’s ear, and wrapped his other hand around Blaine’s back, gripping his blazer for dear life, afraid his knees would collapse from underneath him before the kiss was over.

Blaine pulled out of the kiss and away first, eyebrows raised, breathing heavily. Kurt dropped his hand away from Blaine’s jaw and let it slam against the wall he was leaning against. Blaine brought his own hand up to his face and pinched the top of his nose. He looked everywhere but at Kurt.

“We should practice,” said Blaine. “We have to go out there in ten minutes.”

“I thought we were!” Kurt smiled more brightly than he had ever smiled in his entire life.

They grabbed onto each other and clung together as they kissed each other deeply, mouths open and hands grasping.  Kurt melted backwards into the wall, as Blaine stepped forward, supporting Kurt by leaning his entire body against him, pinning him to the scene shop wall. Kurt’s heart was racing. His breath began coming in pants and gasps. He slid one hand slowly down Blaine’s shoulders, feeling the rough polyester fibers of his blazer. He brought his other hand up to Blaine’s jaw again, this time exploring the sand paper feeling of Blaine’s stubble against his thumb as it rubbed back and forth under Blaine’s ear.

Kurt felt the slide of Blaine’s tongue glance against his lips. Kurt pulled back for a moment, looked at Blaine, at his kiss-swollen lips, all red and puffy, and certain of the emotion swirling in the depths of Blaine’s soul visible through the caramel-and-honey colored eyes, Kurt dove back into the kiss, accepting Blaine’s cinnamon-flavored tongue into his mouth. Kurt’s breath stuttered as Blaine exhaled into Kurt’s mouth, and then Blaine pulled his head away completely, blushing.

They stood holding each other, staring into each other’s eyes, and kissed one final, lingering press of lips before they separated.

Blaine slid his hand into Kurt’s. Kurt wove his fingers between Blaine’s. Hand-in-hand, smiling shyly, they walked out of the secluded corner of the scene shop to see the Warblers beginning to line up in the wings, Wes and David scanning the area for any sign of their lead singer. Wes spotted them first, and nudged David. David looked over and saw their joined hands. He turned quickly to Wes and whispered something in his ear. Wes shook his head side to side and looked back and Kurt and Blaine. His eyes widened when he noticed their hands, and then both Wes and David flashed two thumbs up.  

Kurt and Blaine took their places at the end of the line, and the Warblers filed onstage to begin their set.

Trent began [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vX9h4PPx41I) with John, setting the rhythm with an incredible imitation of the guitar lines and rhythm section of the original song, and then Blaine came in with their first verse.

 _Larger than the moon, my love for you  
_ _Worlds collide as heaven pulls us through  
_ _The secret of the world is written in the stars  
_ _I'm carrying your heart in mine_

Kurt joined him on the chorus, with his harmony singing high over Blaine’s tenor. When they got to the second verse, the entire choir came in behind Kurt’s soaring melody, and continued their accompaniment through the second chorus. Then came the bridge, and Kurt couldn’t help himself.

Kurt turned to Blaine and took Blaine’s hands in his own, and sang to him with his eyes shining.

 _Maybe a greater thing will happen  
_ _Maybe all will see  
_ _Maybe our love will catch like fire  
_ _As it burns through me_

 

Kurt rode home from the competition with his dad.

“I really can’t believe that just happened, Dad”

Burt’s eyes twinkled while he looked at the road. “What, coming in second to New Directions?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and snorted. “Silly. You know what I mean.”

“I’m not surprised at all. You and Blaine have been looking at each other like lovesick fools for weeks.”

“Wait, what?” Kurt turned his dad and looked open-mouthed at his dad.

“You haven’t exactly been subtle about your feelings ever in your life, son,” Burt said, teasingly.

“I’ll give you that, but you said ‘at each other’. What does that mean?”

Burt chuckled. “Ever since he came to me at the church to talk to me about you, I’ve seen something different in his eyes when he looks at you.”

“He came to talk to you?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah. He’s a good guy,” Burt said. “As a matter of fact, have him come by the house. I’d like to thank him in person.”

“Thank him? For what?” asked Kurt.

“Two things. The first, putting the light back in your eyes and making you happier than you’ve been in years.” Burt smiled and reached over to squeeze Kurt’s shoulder.

“And the second?”

“Well, the second is a little harder to explain,” Burt said. “Do you remember that song you sang in church before you quit singing with the choir?”

“Which one? That Christmas one? O Holy Night?”

“No, that one that was something about living your life the way God made you to be,” Burt replied.

“Oh yeah,” Kurt said, and he started to sing a bit of it. “I want to live like there’s no tomorrow. I want to dance like no one’s around . . .”

“That’s the one, that’s ‘The Way I was Made’! Well, there’s a line in that one that says ‘I want to live like I'm not afraid.’ I feel like for the first time ever, I’m looking at you and the fear is gone. Blaine helped do something I could never do for you, son, and I’m so damn thankful.”

Kurt’s eyes filled with happy tears as he leaned his head over on to his dad’s shoulder.  “I am pretty happy tonight.”

“Well you should be. You got your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first love! Nothing wrong with that.” Burt reached over and took Kurt’s hand and squeezed it.

“At least not in your eyes.”

“Or in God’s”

“You’re wrong about all those firsts, though, Dad.”

“What?”

“Blaine isn’t actually the first guy I’ve loved,” Kurt said. “There was someone else first.”

“Finn doesn’t count, Kurt. He couldn’t love you in return. Not like that.” Burt tried to suppress his giggles but he couldn’t.

“Ew, Dad. Gross. Way to ruin a moment,” Kurt said. Then he started giggling, too. “I meant you, you dork. I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, kiddo. Forever and always. No matter what.”

Kurt smiled up at him. “Forever and always. No matter what.”


End file.
